To Tame the Boy Who Lived
by Rosie Posie
Summary: 6th yr at Hogwarts and Harry with his fat attitude is being watched like a hawk. Dumbledore even hires Harry a bodyguard, one of his favorite misfits and a girl to boot, now Harry must face her wrath, her own incorrigible attitude and her deadly charm.
1. Trinkets and Pirates

Chapter 1: Trinkets and Pirates

Fifteen year old Harry Potter walked along the cobble stone path of Diagon Alley a little more cautiously than normal that afternoon. Not every teenage wizard was constantly being sought out to be killed by the most evil and feared wizard in all the magical world. Considering this last past term at school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was the closest he'd been to dying since the prince of all that is dark decided to pay him a visit and kill his parents, he didn't think twice about giving a quick peek over his shoulder.

This being Harry's fifth summer among his own kind was now being spent a lot with his best friends, Ron and Hermione. Satisfyingly today was one of his first away from the Dursley's all summer, which came as a good relief and something to get his unfortunate godfather's death off his mind.

The three shuffled into the Three Broomstick's, a rather popular bar, where they each ordered a butter beer and discussed the summer's events.

"So what exactly have you two been up to all summer?" Hermione piped.

"What am I normally up to?" Harry responded a little annoyed that Hermione should have known better than to ask. His foul moods really were starting to get out of control, but far be it for him to actually attempt to keep them in check, he was the Chosen One after all.

"Hey, have you heard about Fred and George's Joke Shop?" Ron asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, how is it going?" Hermione replied, happy for the change of subject.

"Really well," Ron replied, "Should we go have a look?"

"Sure we've got nothing better to do," Harry answered dully.

Ron took one more swig of his butter beer before standing to leave for his brother's joke shop.

XXX XXX XXX

Clad in her heavy, multi pocketed jacket and fresh out of the department of corrections the seventeen year old Captain of the pirate ship Chaos made her way to her favorite trinkets shop in one of her favorite shopping districts, Diagon Alley, before shoving off for better places. Pausing to observe her reflection in the window of Olivanders she tucked some loose strands up into her hat and wiped some dirt from her cheek, checking her teeth too for good measure. Though it wasn't long before the tantalizing tickle of gossip reached her finely tuned ear, a name she recollected with far too much fondness flickering inside it.

"I still can't believe Weasley won the house cup," a young voice was droning.

"I know, who'd have thought he would have won it for Gryffindor?" another said a little more high pitched than the first.

_Weasley_ the Captain halted her movements, whipping around to find two girls and a boy doused in the grey and black of school dress murmuring on.

"Hey have you seen their new joke shop?" the boy asked.

_A joke shop, those two scoundrels_ she snickered to herself, still standing in place.

She swung around with a grace only those who are prepared to pounce are blessed with, picked up an apple from a passing barrel, gave it a shine on her coat, and intercepted the small herd.

"A new joke shop you say?" she asked grinning with a certain wildness she knew startled people.

"Yeah," one of the girls answered nasally, "Um, were we talking to you?"

She glared at them as if to rebut when she recognized the patch on their cloaks.

"Students," she smiled in amusement, "Didn't quite finish meself."

The group glanced amongst themselves nervously as the sly Captain took a bite of her apple. She swallowed loudly glaring at them hard.

"You lot go to Hogwarts?" she asked sticking her other hand in one of her pockets as she took yet another bite of her apple.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" the boy from the group retorted feeling more than a little uncomfortable being interrogated by a female who looked as if she could rip the head off a hippogriff should the idea strike her fancy.

She grinned wide at the lack of manners.

"It just so happens that I've been offered a job there. It would be wise of you to take that into consideration before subjecting me to anymore of your distain," she snarled spitting a seed at them.

"Right," one said skeptically, jumping back at the gesture.

"So like I said I heard that there's a new joke shop up and running around here somewhere," the Captain added again.

"Yeah…" another said annoyed.

"Well, where is it?" she asked, now agitated that her hints hadn't been taken and answered.

"Give me one good reason as to why I should tell you anything," the same boy stated boldly.

The Captain glared at them, venom dripping from each sapphire iris warningly.

"Do you know what pirates do when a scab disrespects their superiors?" she asked calmly.

"My gods haven't you gotten a clue yet? Does it look like we care?" one of the girls added irritably.

Before she could answer the Captain's temper had gotten the best of her, she pulled out her dagger and pointed it alarmingly close to the young girl's face backing her against the alley wall.

"We cut out their tongues," she hissed at them.

"What's going on here?" an agonizingly familiar voice interjected.

The Captain swung around irritably, pausing in almost relief when she recognized the blonde haired, snake caned old employer of hers.

"Why if it isn't ole Lucius Malfoy, never would have expected to run into you here," she grinned rather surprised.

"Bayridge, well haven't you grown," he commented crudely, "The correctional facility was kind to you it seems."

"Aye, I suppose, not much to do there except read and exercise. But yes where's your little slime ball?" she asked.

"Draco," he summoned.

"Yes father?" came the reply.

"You remember Bayridge…" he explained.

"It's Captain…my, my, he looks just like you Malfoy," she commented with a sneer.

"Yes, yes he does," Lucius replied looking her over with disgust.

She circled Draco twice, lifting his chin and inspecting him.

"Hmm, he wouldn't make a half bad cabin boy, another pair of hands round the ship would do us some good," she commented.

"He's staying right where he is, _Captain_," Lucius replied, tapping the back of her hand harshly in rejection.

"Well I sppose I'm done harassing these…poor excuses for witches and wizards…little better than deck swabs…no manners…and they still didn't give me my directions," she growled.

"Well then I guess you'll be on your way then won't you?" Lucius replied.

"Aye, I expect I will…but you and I need to catch up," she added grinning at him mystically.

"Yes, I suppose we do," he answered, "and your joke shop, that would be Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Captain."

"Good day to you then," the Captain bowed placing the half-eaten apple on the head of the girl, who was still backed up to the wall, and jamming the dagger into the middle of it, "Next time remember to hold your tongue…or lose it."

The girl looked at her in horror as the baggy clothed monstrosity left walking proudly in the opposite direction.

XXX XXX XXX

"Wow, it sure is crowded," Hermione commented as they approached the shop.

"Yeah, George said they were up to their necks in customers," Ron added with a smile.

"Shall we have a look then?" Harry asked.

"Sure."

The three entered the shop briefly. The place was so full of people you could barely see your own two feet. Harry actually spotted an open pocket of space but was shoved back by a group of 3rd years. They finally decided that the shop was too crowded to be in and left reluctantly. Standing outside the shop they looked in at the demanding swarm.

The Captain peered around the corner onto the particularly empty stoop of a rather crowded store. Outside stood three perfectly harmless looking teens, all looking through the window in disappointment.

"S'cuse me but is this Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" she asked gliding around out of the alley.

"Yeah, but it's a bit packed right now," Harry replied not bothering to look at her.

"Aye so it is," the Captain bit her bottom lip and glanced in, "but you know that can be remedied."

The three looked at her questioningly.

"I'm Captain Bayridge…of the Chaos," she introduced herself, sticking out her fingerless gloved hand to shake.

"Hermione Granger, pleasure," Hermione replied hesitantly.

"I'm sure," the Captain replied eyeing her in annoyance.

"So, Captain, what is it that interests you about this particular shop?" Hermione questioned folding her arms.

"Well, you see I'm quite found of tinker tot type things and I heard this was the best place to acquire such entertainment," the Captain replied, fidgeting with something in one of her many pockets that began to play a quiet musical tune, "not to mention the owners are some, old friends shall we say…"

"Oh really?" Ron interrupted.

"Aye, really," she replied, "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley, Fred and George's younger brother," he stated.

"Ron eh?" she asked shining a small something she'd pulled out of another pocket with a rather dirty handkerchief.

"Yeah," he answered raising a brow at her.

"Bet you don't remember me, what with my new position I don't quite look the same," the Captain explained smiling.

She wound the object in her hand twice before returning it to its pocket and removing her hat so that her dirty blonde hair fell down to the small of her back. Her skin was well tanned and muddy looking, smudged here and there with dirt of some kind. Her eyes blazed a royal, seaworthy blue against the rest of her rather dark appearance complimented only again by a strikingly white smile that played along the line of devilish and outrageously enchanting.

"Remember me now?" she asked turning once.

"No, I'm afraid I don't…sorry," Ron replied sheepishly.

A look of disappointment lingered along her eyes as she approached him and took him by the arm in one swift motion, "Well then maybe your brother's will remember, let's have a look see shall we."

The Captain dragged Ron into the shop as Harry and Hermione quickly followed, fearful of losing their comrade to the eccentric teen. Loud screams shrouded the shop, as Fred and George tried to shush them. The Captain cleared her throat once loudly as if trying to gain the attention of the entire store, but no one faltered.

"Excuse me!" the Captain attempted again more boisterously.

The third years from before turned to stare at her in curiosity. The Captain looked around a little more frustrated now as she reached into her belt and pulled out a twisted looking pistol.

"What are you going to do with that?" Hermione whispered pulling her hand down.

"I'm gunna get their attention…dun worry s'not loaded," she said pointing the pistol in the air agitated by the authoritative touch she'd just received.

BANG! BANG! Two shots exploded from the end of her gun as she lowered it.

"Damn kids," she mumbled out loud.

Hermione rolled her eyes as the crowd finally turned their angry, frightened stares to the Captain.

"Alright everyone clear a path!" she bellowed.

"You have to wait in line just like everyone else Missy, you can't just come barging in here like you own the place," a very disgruntled 6th year, Harry, Ron and Hermione recognized as Dean Thomas stepped in front of her.

The Captain looked at him a brow raised as if in confusion as to why the child was questioning her word. She looked him up and down and advanced on him until her body was only a few inches from his. Placing the end of the pistol under his chin she scowled in his face.

"Come again?" she said, "I believe I'm the one with the explosive."

Dean pursed his lips and glowered at her, "Well it just so happens you're not the only one with a weapon," he said reaching for his wand but in turn having it snatched form his fingertips in a freakishly fluid swipe.

"Ah, ah, ah," the Captain prevented, snapping the wand with incredible speed as she pulled it from his reach, not breaking eye contact once.

"Ok now tell me again who the one with the weapon is," she adjusted grinning. Dean's eyes grew to the size of saucers, as did several closer bystanders, "That was mahogany!"

"And now its firewood," the Captain sneered pushing past him.

Slowly a part was becoming visible in the throng. The Captain sheathed her pistol imitation and strode toward the front desk of the shop, when she came to realize it was unmanned. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed her up to the front and also looked around for the two owners as the familiar buzz of the rest of the occupants of the store were starting to refill their ears.

"Blast these boys," the Captain cursed, jumping over the counter with a skillful leap, and landing loudly on the other side as her boots smacked the creaky floor.

"You know you could have just lifted the…"

"Stuff it Ms. Priss," the Captain snapped entering through into the back room as the three followed, Hermione now thoroughly insulted and silently furious.

"Fred, George?" Ron summoned with a half-frightened squeak.

Some laughs and mumbles could be heard from deep in the back of the second room of the store. Ron called again.

"Oi, Ron is that you?" Fred answered peering from behind a shelf.

"Yeah, hey we were in Diagon All…"

"Good Merlin you've grown," she said as Fred's face was fully lit by the small amount of light in the back room.

"Fred, who's that, is it Ron, how'd he get back here?" George complained as he too made his way into their presence.

"Nah, it's just a girl."

"A really hot girl…" George commented as he came to stand next to his brother, and flushed as he realized how loudly he'd made that statement.

The Captain grinned and blushed slightly.

"Yeah, she said she's an old friend of the family but I don't remember her," Ron explained sticking his hands in his pockets, "Her names Captain Bayridge…of the Chaos?"

"Well I lived with you for five years of my life I should have hoped you'd remember me but obviously my hoping was in vain," the Captain added defensively breaking from her astonished gaze.

Fred and George looked at each other in question at this.

"Can't be," George stated.

"We haven't seen her in over eight years," Fred whispered back.

"Well I am!" she interrupted loudly over their privatized conversation, "So you _do_ remember me? Even though I look nothing like I used to…and my going pirate and all I didn't think you'd believe anything a pirate would say."

"Do you have any proof?" George asked.

"Proof?" she asked in disbelief, "What? You don't believe I'm her?"

"No," the two said plainly.

"We're not so stupid as to believe anything a 'Pirate' says…not to mention the way you're talking in third person seems a little suspicious to me," Fred added mockingly.

"Obviously one of your customers wasn't as well educated," she replied sarcastically casting them a charming smile.

"Well the smile looks a little familiar but other than that I don't see how she could be her," Fred whispered again.

The Captain smiled again, looking them dead in the eyes, her smile now turning into a mischievous beam.

"Aye well I guess I'll just leave then," the Captain commented turning toward the door.

Fred and George looked at each other curiously when they heard the word that changed their minds.

"Draw!"

Instantly, a bang louder than the Captain's pistol sent all six spinning in different directions. A moments silence was broken as the twins laugher could be heard just behind a large box of extendable ears.

"Fred, it is her!" George squealed in a high pitch voice from a shelf he had landed on, several moments later.

"Well who'd you think it was you asses?" the Captain also squeaked in a high pitched voice from her shelf on the opposite side of the room.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded from behind a trunk of garroting gas.

"Ron, its Morgan!" Fred shouted now waving putrid green smoke from his face.

"What were those?" Hermione gasped, "What's wrong with my voice?"

"They were the last of our Helium Dung Bombs," the Captain commented jumping from her shelf and landing noisily as the many items she was burdened with jingled.

"Helium Dung Bombs?" Harry mumbled to himself.

"Yeah, they were great fun back way when we were kids," she added smiling.

"How and what are you doing here?" George finally asked, embracing her tightly.

"On duty I'm afraid," she sighed smiling brightly.

"On duty?" Fred asked also hugging her.

Captain Bayridge took a few steps backward and stood, arms spread for them to look at her. The twins merely smiled and tried to cover up their snorting.

"You look like a bum," George chuckled through the awkward silence.

She playfully punched him. Fiddling with her pockets for a few moments she finally came upon a small object which she put into her mouth and blew into, making a high whistle.

The six stepped out of the small back room and reentered the shop where a group of all sizes and shapes were pushing through the doors, rudely past customers and up to the counter. Tall, short, skinny, muscled, pretty, you name it they were in cramming their way into the shop, and all women. Twenty three all together Harry counted to himself, gazing in disbelief. Twenty three of the oddest looking throng of people Harry had seen since his first visit into Diagon Alley five years ago.

"Aye Captain, you rang?" a green-eyed, attractive girl asked with a slight bow.

"That I did, Charlie," the Captain replied with a bow in response.

"Morgan, who are all these…" Fred paused as two taller women glared at him viciously, "people."

The Captain shuddered at her name as the swarm chuckled softly.

"Oh very funny you all, and that'll be a deck swabbing for all of you!" she reprimanded.

A moan of disappointment silenced the crowd.

"It's _Captain _Fred," she added glancing at Hermione who was trying to keep away from a shorter, older woman examining her sweater, "This is my crew…and a magnificent one they are, I've had 'em since I was 8 and've been addin' on ever since. Charlie here's my first mate, hasn't let me down in the 9 years she's been with me."

Charlie stepped forward and greeted both Fred and George with overly firm handshakes then turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione and grinned.

"These for us Captain?" she asked excitedly eyeing the trio with excitement.

"No, Charlie they're friends, you remember Ron I told you about."

"Oh, he's the red headed one righ'," she interrupted, taking his hand and shaking it.

"'E comin' with us?" Charlie questioned inspecting him, as the Captain had Malfoy, "Kinda scrawny, but he is cute."

Ron's ears brightened, as she lifted his chin then taking both her hands and cupping his face, looked dead into his eyes and smiled.

"He certainly is not!" Fred protested defensively.

"Of course 'e isn't," Captain reassured them hastily.

Charlie gave a look of disappointment, but winked flirtatiously at Ron as Hermione gripped his bicep nervously.

"What are the orders Captain?"

"Enjoy yourselves until further notice," the Captain grinned proudly.

A roar exploded among the crowd making the store jump.

"And as for you," the Captain turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, "I need directions to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Why?" Hermione questioned.

"You're looking at the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," she gleamed.


	2. The Sorting Hat Rejected

**Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat Rejected**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione emerged from the red steam engine into Hogwart's train station, all three being greeted by old friends. And Harry wasn't surprised to find at least twenty guards at each train exit.

"Wow, they're really pushing the security now, aren't they?" Ron asked with a half-smile.

"Well the Ministry's finally acknowledged _he's_ back, I guess they would push it," Hermione said softly, "But let's not talk about it here."

The three boarded their carriages, drawn by their invisible guides. Harry gently patted one on the nose before boarding to go to the castle, and then he noticed. There were four escorts mounted on the invisible creatures, in fact these escorts were mounted on everyone's carriage.

"Do they really think…"Harry started in disbelief.

"Of course Harry, You-Know-Who will be going to grave lengths to get his hands on you. Whether it's while you're asleep, or when you're heading up to the castle for the start of term," Hermione explained, coaxing him into the carriage hastily as the guard gave them a hurried expression.

They walked up the stone steps of the castle very cautiously that day, glancing over their shoulders at every turn, something was definitely different about Hogwarts, a fear had settled and it wasn't leaving anytime soon. As they reached the Great hall they noticed quite a bit more noise than usual.

"Wow!" Harry said plainly, "You'd think there would be less people here because of, Vol…You-Know-Who."

"I guess their parents figure they're safer at Hogwarts where Dumbledore is," Hermione shrugged while they took their seats at the Gryffindor table, and waited for the 1st years to come in and be sorted.

The bewitched ceiling was portraying heavy rain, thunder and lightning, a perfect scene Harry thought, to welcome the new 1st years. After a very uneventful sorting they all ate, chatting here and there about summer excursions and trying to keep their minds off the looming danger of the outside world.

All in vain it seemed as a loud knock on the Great Hall's doors nearly jolted the kids' right out of their skins. The headmaster looked at Professor McGonagall inquisitively. She got up with much fuss and hurried toward the door, wand drawn. Opening it she gasped in shock, trying to convince the knocker to leave.

"Honestly-No I don't think-are you sure-well you must be mistaken," were all audible phrases coming from her fixed spot.

"Well Minerva?" Dumbledore questioned loudly.

"Captain Bayridge sir," McGonagall said with a gulp.

"Ah splendid, better late than never," Dumbledore mused.

"Er, Headmaster I don't think-"

McGonagall was abruptly cut off when the Captain came bounding through the door, striding straight up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, head held high. A grin upon her face she strode up to stand in front of the staff table.

"I don't usually knock but an informant outside your office pointed me here, said you were at supper," she paused ringing out her jacket tail from the rain.

"Are you Captain Bayridge?" Snape asked peering at the parchment over Dumbledore's shoulder and looking at it in confusion.

"Aye, sir, I am," she said plainly, hands on hips.

"Captain Morgan Bayridge?"

"Aye, that's me," she reiterated.

"But you're a-a-a," Snape stuttered.

"A girl or a pirate, 'cause I'm both," she smiled wiping a drip of water from her nose with her already soaked sleeve.

A small laugh came from the buzzing crowd.

"You sure have a nice place here, it's very…spacious," she added trying to sound polite.

Dumbledore nodded, "Well, welcome to Hogwarts Captain, I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"You're not seriously considering letting this _delinquent_ stay here are you Headmaster?" Snape drawled.

"Now professor…"

"Delinquent?" the Captain asked.

"Serverus!" Professor McGonagall gasped.

"I assure you sir I'm no delinquent!" the 17 yr old shouted in her own defense, "I just reported here like I was instructed…I mean I do have the job do I not?"

"Yes, Captain, of course, you're here aren't you?" the Headmaster answered.

She patted herself a couple times, "Last time I checked…"

This earned her some more soft giggles from the closer observers.

"You must be tired, I'll have our head boy show you to your quarters so you can rest, and in the morning we'll discuss your duties," Dumbledore suggested, calling forth their head boy.

"Headmaster, honestly," Snape interrupted, "You're not seriously considering allowing this juvenile to stay here, even for a night, we haven't a clue about her relations, or her reputation."

"My relations, _Professor Officious_, are strictly between the Headmaster and myself, thank you," she sneered.

"Serverus, this really isn't the place or time, we'll discuss it after dinner, and as for the Captain, you may retire now, or you and your crew may join us for the ceremonial feast," Dumbledore added.

"My most humble thanks Headmaster, my crew would be more than happy to accompany you and your students for dinner, but um…may I ask where we should park?" she replied with a low graceful bow.

"Ah yes, our gamekeeper Hagrid will assist you," the headmaster directed.

"Park?" Hagrid asked in slight confusion.

"Our…hem…rides," the Captain replied trying to be subtle.

"Oh you mean the…"

"Yes, Hagrid the rides," she smiled, gesturing toward the front of the school.

She swirled, hands still on hips and caught the eyes of her victims from earlier that day. The girl whose head had held her half eaten apple shrunk in her seat, glancing up in the Captain's direction nervously. The Captain grinned, wiggling her fingers at her in hello as the entire table turned to stare at her in accusation.

A 5th long wooden table appeared in between the Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's. Clapping three times loudly the Captain summoned in her band and they sat and ate quite ladylike to everyone's surprise.

One by one the pirates left, uttering their thanks to the Headmaster and exiting in small groups until there was only the Captain and her first mate remaining. They whispered to each other quietly, glancing over their shoulders every now and again to see if anyone was listening.

"So where do we meet Sable?" Charlie whispered.

"Don't you worry about that I have it all figured out," The Captain replied taking a swig of her pumpkin juice.

Slowly Hermione leaned back in her seat, fighting the nagging want to know exactly what the contemptuous blonde was planning.

"I'll meet him in the courtyard tonight to discuss the arrangements," she breathed between bites of food.

"Alrigh' Cap' in, we're all countin' on you," Charlie sighed patting her on the back.

Still Hermione leant until it was quite obvious what she was doing.

"Can we help you?" the Captain snapped rudely at her.

"Oh…er…no I just…dropped my napkin," Hermione attempted trying to cover up her intrusion.

"Righ', well g'nigh' to ye Cap' in," Charlie waved as she got up and left.

"Hey Charlie, give Draigh a good pat for me before you take him, I probably won't see him for a while," the Captain sighed before her first mate left.

"Yes'um Cap' in," Charlie replied before exiting.

The blue eyed girl sat alone at the table, sipping from her goblet and looking around with scrutiny.

"Is she really going to be a teacher?" a 2nd year asked behind her.

"That'd be wicked awesome, a pirate for a teacher," another replied, walking by with a plate of mashed potatoes.

The Captain smiled at this but quickly wiped it off her face as some more students walked in front of her. She couldn't risk getting attached to anyone here.

"Did you hear that?" Hermione asked the boys.

"Here what?" asked Ron.

"Maybe Snape was right, maybe she shouldn't be here," Hermione sighed, placing her hands in her lap.

"What are you talking about?" Harry replied.

"I think she's planning something, I didn't hear all of it, but it sounds like she's going to meet someone tonight, or in the near future," she explained.

"Hermione," Ron accused in disbelief, "You were eaves dropping!"

"I wasn't I dropped my napkin and overhead some of their conversation by accident," she said defensively.

Harry and Ron smiled in knowing.

"Welcome to the dark side 'Mione."

She rolled her eyes in response, "That doesn't matter, we should probably…"

Hermione paused as the Captain got up and started passed them. The table watched her closely, glances quickly morphing into stares, all faces hoping she wouldn't notice. She did. Stopping behind Ginny she tapped her on the head roughly and gestured her to move.

"Ow, what the bloody…" Ginny turned and looked up as the Captain grinned back at her.

"My goodness…is that Ms. Ginny Weasley?" she asked grabbing her face quickly.

"Ginny this is Mor-I mean Captain Bayridge, she lived with us when u were just born," Ron explained as Ginny glanced around fearfully.

"Oi I remember you when you were just a little thing, blue eyes all over the place, barely able to keep your blasted diaper on!" the Captain chuckled watching Ginny blush.

The rest of the table grinned awkwardly and let out small laughs. The adolescent rolled her eyes and looked around in thought.

"So where's this 'Head Person' that's s'pposed to take me to my quarters?" she asked leaning back and crossing her arms smugly.

"He's a Hufflepuff, he sits over there," Harry pointed without looking at her.

She glared down at him in his seat. Gliding over infuriatingly calm she snatched his chin from under him and directed his face towards hers.

"You will address me as Professor Bayridge from now on boy, do I make myself clear," she snarled, releasing his chin roughly.

Harry glared back at her.

"Professor of what? You're much too young," Hermione stated know-it-all like.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I do believe you have me double tomorrow now don't you missy?" she asked with a broad sarcastic smirk.

A tall rather thin boy then appeared behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder, "Excuse me miss, I heard you were looking for me."

"Why yes, I believe I was. Are you Head Boy?" she asked looking up at him slightly.

"Yes miss I am, shall I take you to your quarters?" he replied.

"Yea, just a minute," she silenced him by holding up a finger, "I'll see you three in the morning."

With a grin she exited with the raven haired Head Boy as a large sigh was emitted from the Gryffindor table.

"She's bloody insane!" Ginny exclaimed.

"That rude little…" Hermione could barely finish her sentence as she released a large sum of air through her nostrils and sighed.

Harry rubbed his jaw tenderly and glared once again after her.

"You okay Harry? She didn't hurt you did she?" Ginny asked.

"Nah," Harry replied quietly, "Just a little rough is all. I think I'll head up to bed now though."

"Alright then Harry, we'll see you in the morning," Ginny answered.

XXX XXX XXX

"Purple Guppies," the Head Boy said definitely at a portrait of a large ship, being tossed back and forth between massive waves.

The Captain grinned lopsidedly at the display and entered the room in front of the boy, quickly slamming the door behind her so he couldn't follow. Oblivious to the rude action she silently glanced up at the ceiling, and the stain glass window casting colors down on her face. Starting forward towards the bed she was halted as she nearly tackled a stool placed right in her walkway.

"What the bloody…" she cursed grabbing the stool firmly and standing it upright again.

A soft something was settled on the flat of the chair as she adjusted it and pulled off a tag which read:

_Dear Captain Bayridge,_

_ After some great debate, we've come to find that your time would be better spent as a student of our institution. You will be paid the same salary, just assigned a different role to be played during your stay. Please, sort yourself and the elves will have your school uniform brought to you. Your things will be moved to your new chambers in the morning, and a copy of your new schedule will be written up and ready for you by breakfast. Our Head Boy will escort you to your classes for the first two or three days, and afterwards we assume you will manage on your own. A copy of our school regulations and code of conduct has been attached as well. Thank you for your cooperation. _

_ Sincerely,_

_Headmaster Dumbledore_

The Captain's nostrils flared warningly, as she glanced at the hat revolted and cursed under her breath. She folded her arms indignantly while chewing her bottom lip before she snatched the hat from the stool in a moment of fury, toppling it, and burst out the entryway.

Walking briskly down the corridor she brushed past several students and back into the Great Hall, smashing clear over Harry as she made her way up the main aisle. A loud gasp echoed through the hall as the Captain, hat still clutched in hand, approached the front table a new fire in her eyes.

Throwing the rag to the floor angrily she glared at the whole table in disgust.

"What is the meaning of this, I did not come out of my way to enroll myself into a school for halfwits!" she declared.

Students gasped, mumbling protests yet trying to avoid her gaze.

"How dare you!" Professor McGonagall retorted standing, "This is the finest school in all…"

"Oh can it you!" the Captain spat, "I did not come here to be looked down upon or ridiculed! I came her with the intention to help an old friend of the family, and this is how you treat me? I won't stand for it, and I refuse to be subjected to this inept attempt at degradation!"

Spitting on the hat the flaming blonde turned on her heel and began to exit with every intention of leaving and not once looking back.

"Morgan Amelia Bayridge!" Dumbledore stood, using a tone that halted the Captain in her tracks, a warning shiver scoring her spine.

Gawking was visible as the Headmaster rose and stared angry periwinkle daggers at the young girls back.

"I want to see you dressed and cooperative in my office first thing in the morning or you will not leave this castle whole," he boomed at her.

She faced him lips pursed eyes boiling and chest held high, clearly using every ounce of her reserve to keep from allowing her demons of fury to devour anyone or thing in the room "Yes sir."

Turning on her heel yet again she made to exit the hall, but this time with much less authority in her step.

"Off to bed with the rest of you," Professor McGonagall stated flush faced, soon following after the Headmaster out a side door.

Harry left moments after with the throng and happily entered the Gryffindor common room not much later. Gossip buzzed about him as he slowly made his way through the bodies.

"Did you see the Headmaster's face?" a 2nd year stated.

"Yeah, did you see that girl, how she blasted him," another answered.

"How embarrassing though, to be treated like a little girl in front of the whole school," Lavender sighed, sitting on the couch.

"Serves the wretch right, her mouthing off the Dumbledore that way, what nerve!" Ginny retorted.

"I know, how rude, after he took her in like this," Dean added.

Harry pushed the rumors aside. He had better things to worry about than some stupid teenage girl causing a ruckus on campus and ascended the staircase lazily. Sinking sluggishly into a pair of his warm pajamas he inserted himself into his four poster bed and slept soundly, for now at least.


	3. Centaurs and the Goode Ship Chaos

**Chapter 3: Centaurs and the Goode Ship Chaos **

Harry woke the next morning to find the common room quietly gossiping, big shocker there. Nothing out of the ordinary was spoken merely murmurs of the previous nights feast, complaints of overly packed schedules, and drones of newly enriched love affairs. He himself had yet to be graced with any sort of the social emotion that his peers so seemed to thrive off of. Sighing, he decided against waiting for his comrades and headed down toward the Great Hall for breakfast alone.

Ambling down a moving staircase sleepily he stopped to admire a girl standing at the bottom of it, also waiting the case to halt at its destination.

She was slender, hair elegantly pulled into a blonde ponytail. A school bag was slung over her shoulder lazily as she stretched a delicately long-fingered hand in front of her mouth to obstruct a morning yawn. His eyes continued to scan down, noticing, rather rudely he rendered, at how snuggly and attractively her robes hugged her form accentuating her hips and waist. Still downward his eyes went, closely observing the sleek muscled legs, partially covered by school attired socks, and shoes. Whoever she was, she was completely gorgeous…from the back.

Blushing to himself he shook from his trance and continued down the steps, also bringing himself to realize that he and she were the only two on the moving stairs. He came to rest a step above her at a diagonal, an angle where he was absent from her view.

She wore Gryffindor robes he suddenly noticed, and the crest was on her bag. Why didn't he know her? She couldn't be much older than he from the look of her, from the back anyways. A ball of boldness then built inside Harry's chest as he spontaneously decided to make himself known.

He stepped down the final step as the case came to a halt, "Hey, um, do I know-"

Harry paused. The girl faced him completely now and he was in total and utter bewilderment at the face that graced his.

"G-G'morning, C-Captain," he stuttered in a swift recovery.

She smiled sweetly at him, "Good morning Harry," then turning on her heel to leave secretly made a face of disgust.

Shaking once more from a well-earned daze, Harry continued on his way to the Great Hall and took his usual seat, not bothering to ask any questions in fear of being snapped at, but pondering on some things on his own.

Why on earth had he just now noticed the anatomy of a girl, and how gorgeous it was? And why had he all of a sudden noticed the Captain's of all girls? It made no sense, and his head only seemed to want to make sense of the way her hips had swayed as she fled from his sight. He shook the image from his memory. He needed some pumpkin juice.

Face flushed he filled his glass and drank it steadily.

Hermione and Ron soon followed to take their seats next to, and across from, him.

"So much for professor Bayridge hm? But why in the name of all that is sane would she be sorted into Gryffindor?" Hermione scoffed.

"Hell if I know," Harry shrugged.

"Go ask her what happened," she suggested nudging Ron's elbow.

"What?" he replied.

"Go ask her what happed this morning," Hermione hissed.

"No, that's her business not ours, I'm not going to interrupt her breakfast to satisfy your curiosity, you go ask her then," Ron snapped.

Hermione sat in shock at his well thought out rebuttal, well…well thought out for Ron. She sighed, "Fine, I'll go…ruddy boys and their ruddy affliction to female conversation."

The rest of the Gryffindor table watched her mindfully keeping her just in their field of vision without seeming nosily interested. Hermione tentatively eased onto the bench across from her.

"Good morning Captain," Hermione found herself addressing the girl, out of a silently understood respect.

"Good morning Granger," the Captain replied not looking up from her papers, and scratching at a hangnail on her thumb in irritation.

Hermione fidgeted anxiously, she'd never actually been all that great at the female conversation thing herself. Uncomfortably she peered at the Captain's schedule left strewn next to the toast rack, "Charms VI with Flitwick? He's a fair professor, strict and firm but gives pretty fair marks too," she offered initially.

The Captain looked up from her open book once, and tried to pretend Hermione hadn't said anything significant. But after another moment of awkward silence she realized the bushy haired teen wasn't leaving, "Can I help you with something Granger?"

"Um actually, I was wondering," Hermione began pressing her fingertips together in thought, "w-what it was exactly happened last night, with you and the Headmaster."

The blonde sighed in frustration, closed her book somewhat loudly and leaned onto the table with her forearms, "I really don't think that's any of your business is it?"

"N-No, but I thought-" Hermione began, ready to launch into a well thought out explanation.

The Captain held up her finger, "That's your problem, Granger. You think. If you at any point in your pathetic brownnosing existence ever _thought _we were friends, or even mere acquaintances I'd be happy to set the record straight now. I wouldn't be caught dead associating with an obnoxious, know it all, grade grubber like you," she glowered leaning closer in a dangerous kind of way, "And if I ever catch you coming to me for gossip again, I'll make sure that pathetic sweater and tie combination become a permanent part of your anatomy savvy?"

Hermione sat purse-lipped and thoroughly agitated at this point, "You're an awfully nasty, stuck up, arrogant blonde aren't you?" she blurted.

Blue eyes widening in fury the Captain rose from her seat and grasped Hermione's robe collar roughly, "You little—"

"Ms. Bayridge!" Dumbledore stated warningly from his seat.

Turning her infuriated expression back to Hermione, she released her and scooped up her books, commenting as she left, "I'll see you in potions Granger. I'd watch your back."

Readjusting herself in semi-shock Hermione returned to her seat blankly.

"You okay Hermione?" Lavender asked leaning into their threesome.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said flatly spooning some porridge onto her plate.

Lavender leaned back with a disappointed look.

"I think I've just made a new enemy," she sighed to the boys.

Ron chuckled slightly, "Wow Hermione, you really need to learn how to pick your fights."

"I didn't start it! She wouldn't even let me finish my sentence!" she argued as the two got into their first quarrel of the morning.

Harry in the meantime observed as the Captain briskly headed toward the Great Hall's exit, glaring and jumping threateningly at a Ravenclaw known to all as the pretty Cho Chang. There was something mystifying about that girl, in a frighteningly uncontrollable way.

"This is going to be a long year," Harry sighed to his friends.

The two almost instantly stopped their bickering and nodded their agreement.

XXX XXX XXX

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had double potions that morning. That meant two classes of Snape and their new favorite peer, the Captain.

"I don't see why she didn't get sorted into Slytherin," Hermione complained while nearly chopping her fingers into the pile of ingredients she and Harry were making.

"I wonder why the Headmaster changed his mind," Harry added in response, again intently watching the Captain who was now paired with Ron.

More questions were swimming about in his head, but they were far from mere inquisitions about her professional status. How could something that gorgeous have such a horrid temperament? Could she change? Would it be dangerous to his health to consider being the one to suggest the change to her? And would that in turn have any effect on his moods as of late? Because Merlin knows he hadn't been the friendliest of people since his previous year at Hogwarts.

Ron wasn't really doing anything Harry noticed in irritation. The Captain seemed to be controlling all five things they were supposed to be doing at once, and doing them almost perfectly.

"Your potions should be foaming slightly around the edges and be a particularly revolting shade of orange," Snape was saying as he made his way between stations.

"Um, Captain," Ron whispered out of the side of his mouth, "Ours isn't orange, it's green, and it's not foaming it's bubbling."

"That's because we're already passed stage five and six," she side glared at him, "Everyone in here works so slow, how hard is it to follow orders? You're given the list of things to be done straight here in your book…this class should be simple. Follow the instructions, work at your own pace, if you die from your concoctions you fail. What do you need a bleeding professor for?" she continued to complain, while adding some more roots and herbs into the brew.

The slender blonde paused for a moment, glanced around her work bench then sighed contently. Ron looked at her in confusion.

"Is everything alright?" he asked afraid something might at any moment explode from his lack of participation, "You haven't really let me do anything."

"You should be thanking me," she added, side glancing at him this time then kicking the cauldron with the side of her foot three times, causing it to make a loud clang.

Ron jolted in his surprise as Snape whirled around on them.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I'm finishing my potion," the Captain replied in agitated annoyance corking her phial and handing it to him, "Bottled Chickenpox a la me," she said flatly, "Why on earth bottling a disease is relevant in the least is beyond me, but there you have it."

Snape took the phial and looked at it skeptically. He turned then on Neville Longbottom who was situated alongside a mousy looking Hufflepuff, uncorked the Captain's phial and dabbed two drops on the back of his hand. The disease spread with an intense thickness up his arm and onto his face. The young boy toppled over and flailed, scratching relentlessly.

Professor Snape grinned in his own twisted amusement, as he failed to silence the Slytherins that were doubling over with laughter on the other side of the classroom.

"Well Bayridge, this is a _decent_ potion, it's worth at best an _S_," he crooned.

"An _S_?" the Captain replied in astonishment, temper pouring from her lips in horrid sheets, "Merlin himself couldn't have pissed a better disease you pompous parrot nosed vulture! And what kind of sick prick uses his students as lab rats for so unsatisfactory a potion you prat! I don't know what kind of game you're playing at, but someone should strip you of your bloody wizarding license!" she shrieked.

Snape stiffened, his lip curling in fury, "That will be 70 points from Gry…"

"Oh stuff it you!" she exclaimed a final time shoving her crumbled potion calculations into his mouth, "You're a foul, insecure, greasy old man, and if I have anything to say about it, I'll see that you never teach potions again."

Scooping up her bag she shoved past him rudely and stopped beside Neville, twitching with itching spasms in his seat next to the pouting Hufflepuff. Her face seemed to soften at the shamed bow of his head and she paused then, catching most everyone off guard and offered her hand out to the humiliated Neville, nudging him with her slender fingers to catch his averted gaze.

"Neville," she said softly, "C'mon, I have an antidote in my dorm."

She gave him a small half smile, one that was cute and didn't quite fit her face, then gestured with her head for him to follow. Neville quickly looked at the fuming professor who seemed to be more preoccupied with getting the soggy parchment from his mouth than worried about anyone else in the class, picked up his bag and grabbed his leftover books before taking her hint and following her out the wooden door.

The class was in shock as no one spoke for several moments. Snape, finally rid of all the bits of saliva ridden paper, swooshed over to his desk and scribbled furiously in a small leather book before exiting through the door hurriedly barking over his shoulder, "Malfoy, you're in charge!"

The slicked hair boy nodded and turned to his comrades, "That was bloody wicked!"

Several other Slytherin boys nodded in agreement, "She didn't even catch Snape staring at her knockers!"

More agreements were nodded as perverted comments then followed, girls of different houses turning their noses up at the gestures.

"She'll get detention for sure," Hermione exclaimed.

Harry was in awe. His suspicions about her were just beginning, but one was settled, she was so unimaginably gorgeous it was distracting. Who would have thought that under the dirt, baggy clothes, and attitude laid a potential knockout. He, however, kept this comment to himself, hoping to secretly find out the rest. He had his own plans now.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Neville was suddenly the topic of all conversation on the way to their Charms class later that afternoon. Everyone seemed to be talking about his adventure with the Captain back to the Gryffindor Dorm…_alone_, to _cure_ his Chickenpox.

Harry, Ron and Hermione came in to find him surrounded by every male student in their class. All asking the same questions, and Neville answering quite innocently, "Honest guys, nothing happened, she was really nice about the whole thing."

"She didn't get physical with you did she Neville?" Hermione questioned, taking her seat next to him.

Several of the boys smiled and nodded their heads eagerly, earning them disgusted stares from the surrounding girls.

"Physical?" Neville asked nervously.

"Yeah Neville," one of the boys chorused, "Did you guys have a good shag or what?"

More boys laughed and hooted encouragingly, hoping Neville would embellish.

Hermione sighed at the turn of her words, "I meant she didn't hurt you did she?"

He shook his head, "No."

"What happened?" Ron inquired, joining in with his peers.

"We went up to the common room to get the antidote," he answered plainly.

"Did she take you into her room?" Seamus asked.

Neville glowered some now, "No, she was a complete lady, I waited in the common room for her. She brought me a bottle of blue cream, told me to rub it on the itchy patches and wait about an hour before going back out. Then she left for her next class."

The boys became suddenly disinterested and dissipated quickly, all instead chiming into what they would've done given the chance to be with the Captain alone in the common room.

"So nothing strange happened?" Harry answered now that the class' attention seemed to be diverted.

"Well on her way back down the stairs it sounded like she was talking to someone outside the window, but I think it was just her owl," he answered vaguely.

"That's interesting," Hermione added pulling out a book and scribbling something down in private.

Before anymore questions could be asked, Professor Flitwick had entered the room and was waving his stubby hands back and forth in order to retrieve everyone's attention. The class was silent there afterwards, concentrating more on the new Balancing Charm they were being taught rather than the gossip at hand, which had for the most part been settled thanks to Neville.

XXX XXX XXX

Dinner that night was nowhere near quiet. Professor Snape had assumed it a good time to publicize the Captain's insubordination. The Captain, who was sitting at her respective deserted end of the Gryffindor table, was reading contently and pretending not to know what he was talking about, "Headmaster, I haven't the foggiest idea what he's going on about. But I do remember specifically, after I'd finished with my potion, Professor Snape tested it on a boy in my class."

Snape puffed up defensively, "That's a total and complete-"

"Neville…Longbottom was it?" the Captain turned over her shoulder and summoned the boy, "Come here. He probably still has some leftovers from its affects headmaster."

The brown haired, bucktoothed boy, hobbled over sluggishly, slumping as now the attention was directed at him again.

"Show the headmaster," she said to him, arms folded as they stood before the staff table.

He looked at her inquiringly.

"The chickenpox, Neville," she tried again sweetly.

Neville looked at Snape sheepishly, hesitating before he pulled up his sleeves to reveal a few leftover pox still lingering red and puffy on his arm.

"Neville you can sit down now," the Headmaster said smiling at him.

The boy nodded uncomfortably then left.

"Serverus, I should like to talk to you in private after dinner, and Morgan, as for you, I'm giving you detention. Three nights of polishing the trophies," Dumbledore sentenced, "For disrespecting a professor, and skipping class."

The Captain's jaw dropped, "You've got to be joking!"

Snape, though thoroughly disappointed at the headmaster's mercifulness, grinned triumphantly.

The blonde became rigid in her agitation, "I knew this was going to happen," she seethed, "I knew that all it was going to take was one sour, snotty, prejudice wizard and this job was going to be a hell among hells. I can only take but so much Albus you mark me," she warned turning on her heel and sitting back down at her table with a look of utmost revulsion on her face.

The Hall seemed to return to its usual chatter, all precariously eyeing the still fuming Gryffindor as she sat alone at the end of the table. Ron shoveled a large spoonful of sweet potatoes into his mouth before elbowing the inattentive Harry so he could pass him another platter. But Harry was much more interested in the insane and practically suicidal notion that'd roosted in his head.

She must be lonely, trying to stand up to Snape by herself. Maybe she wanted some company.

Harry then stood up without knowing why or how he'd managed to get his legs to work and walked toward her amongst heavy protest from his friends.

"Harry, are you blinking mad?" Ron whisper shouted, trying to grab at his sleeve but missing and tumbling out of his seat.

"Harry, what do you think you're going to do?" Hermione hissed after him.

The whole table fell quiet, straining over one another to see what would happen, to see if the infamous Harry Potter could indeed survive anyone, even someone as fierce and merciless as the Captain.

The Captain glanced at the seat to her left when she realized all had gone quiet, half expecting nothing to be there, half expecting the glance just to be a force of habit, but reeled in shock as she realized Harry Potter of all boys had settled in next to her, "What do you want?" she felt herself growl.

"That was bloody wicked, the way you carried on with Snape like that. I wish I had half that nerve," he started only loud enough for the Captain to hear then looked back at his food nervously, unsure of where to take the conversation next.

The Captain gazed at him a little taken aback, mouth suddenly dry, and mind empty of what to say in return.

"I know we didn't hit it off right…so can we start over?" he suggested next, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter." He stuck his hand across the bench to her.

At first she seemed as if she was going to devour him whole each blue iris breathing hard, cold death at him, but as he held her gaze in his her features softened and she took his hand gently.

"I'm Captain Morgan Bayridge, it's nice to meet you Harry," she gave an exhausted, and effortless smile.

He offered an oversized grin as she released his hand, and they both turned back to their food. The stares were getting overwhelming, the silence thickening all gazes thrown over shoulders at them in apprehension. Even the professors had seemed to quit their chatter to observe the disturbance.

The Captain sat up a bit straighter, feeling like a wild animal in a cage being observed as if about to perform a trick. Harry sat suit, the eyes were becoming more demanding as the Captain shifted defiantly first. She turned her head, "Harry?" she said in a moderately loud voice, one that commanded everyone's attention.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the professors tensed, all prepped for the Captain's inevitable explosive tantrum.

He turned to her slowly, "Hm?"

"Can I borrow your potions notes?"

XXX XXX XXX

Hermione scowled the entire walk back to the dorm, "What on earth he thought he was doing is beyond me. That girl is all trouble," she was huffing.

"You're just jealous," Ron said sleepy and full.

"Jealous of what?" she returned in defense.

"That Harry ate dinner with her instead of us," he sighed intuitively.

"Why would that make me jealous?"

"Because you're scared he'll leave us for her."

"What are you talking about?"

"We've been his best mates since 1st year, it's natural to get a little jealous. But don't worry when this all blows over he knows we'll be here for him. Besides a little infatuation would do him good," Ron spewed smartly, leaving Hermione a bumbling ramble of retort. Five minutes of it's just not right for him to be around her later, Ron shook his head, "Whatever 'Mione, I'm going to bed."

The bushy haired teen lingered on this for several hours while doing her homework on the plush common room couch. It wasn't long, however, before she had contently dozed off, slumping on the cushions.

A bustle of feet woke her. She jolted suddenly then near silently turned and peered over the back of the couch. The room was sunken in darkness, the only light coming from windows that were left with the shades drawn. All she could make out was a silhouette through her just-woken-blurred vision. A heavy jacket was jingling annoyingly, and a pair of heavy boots were thudding with ominous on the stone floor, muffled only in the least by the carpet. The figure was heavily mumbling to itself as it went to exit through the portrait hole.

"Blasted late-nighter's sure as hell did take their own sweet time getting to bed," it was saying in a deeply familiar tone.

Hermione, pausing only for seconds to comprehend the voice, suddenly perked up. It was the Captain, leaving the common room after hours, something she certainly didn't want to miss.

Pulling her sweater around her tighter after removing herself from her warm notch on the sofa, Hermione tiptoed after the blonde, curiously dressed in all her tack. She took a complicated number of twists and turns down the stairs as she followed close behind, silently picking landmarks to help her find her way back.

Hermione then halted; the Captain took her final turn into a courtyard, its fountain still bubbling noisily. Crossing in an elegant stride, the seventeen year old stopped at the fountain and sat on its edge quietly. She reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a watch, glanced at it then cursed, "They're both late. I told them punctuality was essential. Lazy bums."

Taking her worn out hat off her bandana-ed head, she leant over to allow the spouting fountain water to wash over her face. In the time Hermione found it the perfect opportunity to find a closer, safer hiding spot. She dashed from the doorway of the courtyard to a nearby bush, and squatted behind it, peering through the branches.

The Captain hadn't seen her as she released a contained sigh. Moments passed without any activity from the blonde haired hellcat, minutes soon followed, long anxious minutes. Her subject was quite bored and irritated by the look on her face, as she played with an enchanted dragon figurine to pass the time. Hermione felt the exhaust of her lack of sleep catching up with her. Most her adrenaline had been spent in the first half an hour of her chase, and now she was feeling the brunt of it.

Just as the occupant was about to give up and return to her room an unusual creaking was just barely audible. She glanced over at the Captain, who had apparently heard it too, and again perked up.

They were only ten strides or more from the outdoor entrance to the courtyard, the doorway of which was very large. The Captain passed through it with ease and stood on the 5th or 6th step outside the yard. Hermione yet again crawled forward, hiding to the left of the doorway and peering out curiously.

Gaping in extreme astonishment, the Gryffindor genius rubbed her eyes as if in fear of dreaming.

A ship drawn by four massive red dragons soared toward the school. The sails were unmistakably pirate origin, the skull and crossbones contrasting evilly with the parchment colored sails. The ship itself appeared a deep blood red, the fibers of wood, which glistened in the moonlight, hovered inches off the ground outside her hiding place now, settling into a comfortable place. The structure was just as massive as the dragon's that drew it. It being almost four stories in height and complexly put together. The thing looked overall like a large cake with insanely awkward chunks taken out of it, in place of which were crooked masts with deformed shrouds.

Once recovering from the sight of the ship, Hermione then came to notice that their company was growing. From the direction of the forbidden forest came a low, thunder like rumble. Hooves pounded wildly against the earth as a remarkably enormous herd of centaurs poured from its depths, all carrying very interestingly shaped packages and boxes.

Both groups coming to rest in front of the courtyards outer most entrance, their leaders ascended a few steps to meet with the Captain. One she recognized as the Captain's first mate, Charlie, and the other she was oblivious to.

"Charlie," the blonde said cheerfully embracing her, "Good to see you, how's the ship, the dragons, the crew?"

"Good Cap' in, everyone's fine. Eager for the smuggl' thoug'," the girl replied awaiting the Centaur leader to come to discuss the trade with them, "How're you?"

"You wouldn't believe what I'm goin' throug'. They're makin' me wear these gross, ruddy uniforms, and I have to live in a dorm. And the pupils and staff here are remarkably discriminative…and then this little boy I have to keep watch over, you know the one who's my assignmen', he's…" she was cut off in her explanation as she realized the centaurian leader was approaching.

Apprehensively the large shape of the half man half beast stepped out of the shadows. His build was strong, very muscular, a dark goatee gently sitting on his carved visage. Steps clunking deeply, he approached and towered over the two teens.

"Are…Are you Captain Bayridge?" he asked, looking down at the Captain quizzically.

"Aye, that I am," the blue eyed infamy replied with confidence.

The stallion snorted in humor, "You're _Captain Morgan Bayridge, of the Great Pirate Horde Chaos_?"

"Aye," she said insulted by his spurt of amusement, "I _am_ she!"

He continued to chuckle, well more of a whinny, "The captain of the greatest pirating mass in the wizarding world is a female? You've got to be kidding me, alright very funny, this Captain's got quite the sense of humor, bring him out to me now swabs, we're late as is and I need to get my troops back to the forest before anyone sees us."

Charlie looked angrily at the horse man then back fearfully at the Captain. Her face was a deep shade of pink, her temper about to explode through her pores and devour them all.

"We're all _female_," she said rather calmly.

The creature was almost in tears, pawing at the softened dirt, "You're telling me that—"

"Damned I'm done with formalities," the Captain exploded pulling out her sword and pointing it at the centaur's throat.

"Yes, I am Captain Morgan Bayridge, and I am a girl, as is my first mate Charlie," she seethed, "and as is the rest of my crew."

Charlie blew her whistle beckoningly as all shapes of women emerged from the holds of the gigantic masterpiece of woodwork.

Well supported now, the Captain sheathed her sword and looked at the creature in satisfaction, "We are the Great Pirate Horde Chaos, and we are women. Now that we have that cleared up, Basil is it? _My_ troops would like to get this trade over and done with before someone sees _us_," she replied calm triumph and irritation evident in her tone once more.

Every inch of the centaur stallion's face was speechless, he had honestly thought the entire spectacle was a gag, and now in realization of what he'd mistaken was graciously apologizing and urging his troop forward to exchange the illegal goods.

Hermione didn't stick around for the technical exchange, she had seen plenty. Quickly, yet cautiously, turning she crawled back toward the opposite entrance into the castle. Following her landmarks she easily made her way back, bushy mane flailing behind her as she ran.

Bursting into the common room through the portrait hole she gathered her things off the couch, and bounded up the stairs to make some new calculations on her discoveries.

Ten, no twenty, no fifty possibilities were bouncing about in her fidgeting mind. Answers, that's what she needed. This was her puzzle and she was bound and determined to figure it out, whether Captain Morgan Bayridge of the Great Pirate Horde Chaos liked it or not, she was going to figure this one out.


	4. Dangerous Bonding

Chapter 4: Dangerous Bonding

Hermione was ecstatic the next morning. She had proof; she'd seen the Captain's whole falling out with her own two eyes. Harry and Ron would have to believe her. Quickly she dressed herself and gathered her books before heading out her dormitory door. She was abruptly halted as she turned to head down the stairs and collided with another body almost toppling down the flight hadn't her recipient grabbed her by the arm to prevent her downward descent.

"Thanks um…" Hermione looked up mid apology and recognized the Captain's face to her guilty horror.

"Watch where you're going Granger," she growled in response.

"S-Sorry Captain," Hermione gathered up her things for the second time that morning and exited the common room heading for the Great Hall. When she arrived she found the hall to be moderately full and Harry and Ron engaged in several whispered conversations. Nearing they came into earshot.

"I heard she came from somewhere in the Americas and she's here to assassinate the Minister of Magic," someone was whispering.

"Yeah well I heard she battled alongside You-Know-Who and is only here as a spy," Lavender interrupted.

"No, I was told by a reliable source at the Hogs Head that she was bitten by Ignatius Alastair," a Hufflepuff boy added.

That seemed to catch enough ears to cease further comment.

"Well who's that?" Harry chimed.

"Only the most dangerous and deadly dragon in all of dragon history! No one's ever survived a battle with him," the same Hufflepuff exploded.

Harry gave a skeptical side glance before returning to his breakfast, "Sounds a bit too much like girl gossip to me."

Ron seconded the motion, "That's rubbish, she may be frightening but no one's met that monster and lived to tell the tale."

Lavender rolled her eyes insulted, as did the Hufflepuff boy before they both left to re-spread their news.

Hermione quickly sat herself next to Ron, looking at them both cheerfully and gleaming.

"What's gotten into you this morning?" Ron asked a little irritated with her overall enthusiasm.

"I followed the Captain last night, and saw her—"

"Oi, not you too Hermione" Harry started in, "I thought you of all people—"

"But no, Harry, please, just hear me out," she argued, "I saw her, I followed her down to the courtyards late last night and she was trading something with the centaurs from the forbidden forest and…and…she was complaining about the school, and about someone she was supposed to be—" she stumbled over her thoughts, "Anyways, I think she's been hired to come here, and not by Dumbledore alone."

"Wow," Ron grinned hiding his smirk behind his goblet.

"What?" she turned to him in exasperation.

"Hermione Granger, turning into a girl and spreading rumors," Ron explained, "Never thought I'd see the day."

Hermione was speechless neither were going to listen to her. She paused in her own defeated thought for a few moments then made a very concentrated face and stormed out of the hall.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Can you believe her?"

"I know I don't see why everyone can't just leave the Captain alone," Harry said, kind of to himself but also kind of towards Ron at the same time.

"But that one thing, about the dragon, that's bloody wicked," Ron whispered after a few mouthfuls of cereal, "I've heard of that Alastair beast, Charlie's old mate was killed by a run in with that one. He wasn't right for weeks, saw the attack and everything."

"Oh Ron, c'mon," Harry protested.

"Well, I'm just saying," Ron defended himself, "Hey, why don't you go ask her then, clear up all this ruddy talk, it's getting right annoying."

"Why would I do that?" Harry demanded, "Let them talk."

"Because one, you're the only one that can get near her and not draw back with less body parts than you started with and two, I won't have to listen to Hermione go on about how awful she is once the story is straight."

Harry contemplated this for a few moments, "Alright."

He glanced over at the Captain; she was reading, a pretty regular dining hall habit of hers. Rising he made his way to her end of the table, which wasn't unusually deserted.

"Morning Captain," Harry sighed easing himself onto the bench across from her, only sliding one leg over in case he needed to make a swift get away.

"Morning Harry," she said half smiling and only just glancing up from her book, "How're you?"

"F-Fine thanks," he answered rubbing one of his forearms and breathing deeply, "Can I ask you something?"

The Captain's eyes shot up and locked with his, her expression controlled, "Aye, go on then."

"Well see," Harry started, "There's been this rumor going around…"

The Captain seemed to relax immensely and crossed her arms while pressing her tongue against her cheek, a look of intrigue hanging on her face.

"Alright, hit me with it, what do you wanna know?"

Harry seemed less afraid now, "You're not an assassin are you?"

"No," she snorted, "And if I were why would I outwardly badger everyone that annoys me, the assassins are the quiet ones."

Harry grinned, "And you aren't in relations with Voldemort right?"

She became stern and serious, "No."

The tenseness in his shoulders subsided and he leaned against the tabletop, "And you didn't fight Ignatius Alastair did you?"

"Well aye, that I did," she said flatly.

Harry froze, "Y-You did?"

"Is that what everyone's in a tiss about this morning?" she smiled coyly.

"Well I mean, supposedly no one's ever done that before," he defended.

"I guess that'd make me the first then wouldn't it?" She turned to look down the table at the curious faces peering back, and grinned again thinking some more. When she looked back up, Ron was seated next to Harry, eagerly leaning forward.

"It's all rubbish right?" he asked.

"Did you really fight him?" another voice came, this time from behind her, making her jump slightly, it was Lavender feeling more at ease now that Ron had accompanied Harry while questioning the Captain.

It seemed her end of the table was slowly increasing in popularity.

Seamus stood alongside Lavender, "You're a bloody assassin aren't you?"

The Captain rolled her eyes, "Yes Finnegan I'm an assassin sent from planet Jupiter to kill the Prime Minister and impregnate all the men on earth with my soul sucking insect larva."

The crowd fell silent, Harry eyeing her apologetically.

"Do you have any proof?" a slightly agitated but smooth voice asked from her left side through the quiet, Malfoy to everyone else's knowledge.

"Yes I hide my antenna inside my ears," she sighed stuffing her papers into her novel and standing, "No I'm not an assassin, no I don't have anything to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and _yes_ I have in fact encountered Ignatius Alastair, once."

"But do you have any proof?" Malfoy encouraged.

"Yes he and I had afternoon tea, discussed the going rate for unicorn blood, then he gave me an old family heirloom," she looked at him in irritation.

"Well do you have a trinket of any kind, a tooth, a scale, some treasure? What does one usually leave with after defeating a dragon?"

"An immense loss of blood, energy, and battle scars," she said even more blandly than before.

"So he did bite you?" Seamus piped up again.

"Perhaps," she sighed.

"Can we see it then?" Malfoy smiled flirtatiously at her.

"No," she stated flatly amongst several protests, turning to make through the small crowd that'd gathered around her.

"Why is it in an inappropriate place?" Malfoy was quicker, the moment she'd pushed from the table he'd stood, offering the full of his body against hers. A flash of robes and metal caused everyone to jerk and adjust their view. The Captain had Malfoy pinned beneath her in mere seconds, a dagger held astoundingly close to his throat.

"Get that close to me again, and I'll gut you like the slimy bottom feeder you are," she snarled.

Several people gulped loudly, not daring to look at anyone else but her until she left. Un-straddling the bench and taking up her bag she secretly concealed her weapon before beginning to exit, glaring menacingly at her former interrogators.

Harry still sat, awestruck but thoroughly amused at her attack all at the same time. She fascinated him. Constantly keeping him guessing, his mind having to double back and catch its breath.

He moved before anyone else at the table, standing as quietly as he could and following her.

Malfoy too sat up grumbling, "What's so special about Potter? She hasn't threatened his life yet."

"It's called tact and understanding," Cho Chang informed him from a few spaces away, "It's your lack thereof that makes boys like you so obnoxious."

Harry caught up to her, she jumping in realization that someone had actually approached her after her fit.

"What're you doing tonight?" Harry questioned walking backwards but in front of her, breathing a little heavier than he intended.

The Captain continued her pace, "Why?"

Harry stopped at the doorway and blocked her path out, "Are you planning on trying out for the Quidditch Team?"

"No," she said with a slight revulsion trying to pass him, but only resulting in Harry jutting his arm out in front of her alternate escape route.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to maybe?" she said agitation creeping into her voice, though with a more defeated than aggressive grumble.

"Well then would you just come to the tryouts and help me weed out the decent players and the…not so decent players?" he asked boldly, "Please?"

She drew very close to his face, "You're a brave boy," she said looking into his eyes and attempting to study them, but only managing to get an unfamiliar fluttery feeling in her stomach, "Aye, I'll come…but only to help you weed out the weak links…I have tons of work to do."

Harry grinned, "Alright, great…see you at 7."

She nodded and rolled her eyes slightly, "Can I pass now your highness?"

He nodded and withdrew his arm, taking his place beside her and walking as far as McGonagall's classroom before leaving her side.

"Ms. Bayridge!" McGonagall summoned just before she was able to sit, "May I speak with you for a moment please."

The Captain sighed and trudged up to the professors desk, "Yes, Professor, what is it?"

"The headmaster wanted me to inform you of how wonderful a job he thinks you're doing with You-Know-Who," she said in a hushed voice, "Keep it up and he promises you double the pay. The closer you are to him, and the more he is around you, the safer he is, keep it up."

The Captain turned on her heel and made a furious face but quickly calmed herself, 'Double the pay…Dumbledore really knows who he's dealing with doesn't he? Closer to that little pain he wants, so closer I'll get.'

XXX XXX XXX

Harry crossed another name off the list of 20 people that had tried out for the keeper position. Frustration started to overwhelm his thoughts when a short, blonde haired figure appeared next to him arms folded.

"Glad you came," Harry said not taking his eyes off the next boy who flew to the keeper's goals.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get all mushy on me," the Captain sneered glancing up at the boy as he flailed about helplessly trying to block the quaffle, but missed by more than a mile.

"Thank you…Garret," Harry yelled up at the boy as he descended, a very unsatisfied look plastered on his face.

The Captain ran a hand through her hair and sighed, the sunset causing her slightly squinted expression from standing face first in the light to shift occasionally.

"So what do you think?" Harry asked.

"About what?"

"The turn out."

"I think it's a stupid game," the Captain growled.

Harry looked at her in shock, "A stupid game?"

"Aye, a stupid, pointless game that requires no skill at all," she replied.

"Alright, that's where I draw the line," Harry began turning to face her, clipboard tucked under one arm as he crossed them.

The Captain looked at him somewhat confused yet challengingly.

"Quidditch takes more skill than any muggle or magical sport I've ever seen," Harry argued.

"You fly around on sticks, throwing balls through hoops, what can you hope to accomplish from it?" she answered face still unchanging from the challenging look, "It doesn't teach you how to fight, or how to defend yourself, or how to do anything as far as survival is concerned, and when it comes down to it that's all any of us can do anymore…survive, and how can anyone expect us to survive when we're encouraging our future generations to fly around on sticks…_because it's fun and builds spirit._"

Harry's blood began to boil slightly, "Quidditch teaches you agility, speed, quick thinking, and team work. As far as I'm concerned it teaches you a lot about survival."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing no one really cares what you think," she returned, "As long as you provide them a good show you're a hero."

"Fine, then I challenge you right now play me in one on one quidditch!" Harry demanded, "Since you seem to be so knowledgeable you must be a pro yourself eh?"

The Captain's face went almost white.

Harry tossed his clipboard and quill to the ground, swiping up his firebolt as several onlookers froze at the sight of his outburst.

"N-No," she stuttered, clearly trying to sound as confident as possible.

Harry grinned in his frustration, "Can't handle it?"

The Captain pursed her lips and looked around uncomfortably, "No I can."

"Then here," he said tossing her a Nimbus 2000, "Should be a cinch for you."

She caught the broom with a swift fist but looked at it in distaste before averting her stare back to Harry, "I said no," she stated defiantly tossing the stick to the ground.

"Don't tell me the big bad Captain can't handle a little one on one match against someone so unworthy as I," Harry goaded still irritated, "If it's a stupid game fine, I'm willing to accept that but then prove to me how trivial it is and I'll consider myself bested."

"Your worth was never in question but now that you mention it how could one as superior as I be asked to play such an insignificant game?" she managed with much grace, however frail the attempt.

Harry grinned right through it, "No, no, my good Captain, what a service you'd be doing we ignorant and uneducated Quidditch fans. Please a demonstration is all but necessary."

"I can't be bothered," she answered again though more sternly, eyes growing as he continued to push, his anger growing with each rebuttal.

He was in her face in two strides, "You're scared," he accused.

Several snickers were audible behind them, as many of the audition-ers began to whisper loudly.

The Captain bristled noticeably, staring up at Harry with hateful blue eyes, not the same as before, playful with the banter but hard and hurt. She folded her arms over her chest and held his gaze taut, "If I thought I could get away with it, I'd cut out your tongue," she oozed, swirling in one easy twirl fleeing the judging eyes.

As soon as the last of her robes were seen flowing into nothingness behind the pitch entrance the field exploded with comments.

"She said no."

"The Captain totally spazzed!"

Everyone reeled in amazement as the famous Harry Potter could even take down the most stubborn, restless girl at Hogwarts with just a challenge.

XXX XXX XXX

Harry entered the common room later that night and found no sign of the Captain to his displeasure, just gossiping 4th years that had suddenly taken a chatty interest in him. Flopping himself on the couch he ignored the buzz and rubbed his forehead, unintentionally tracing over his scar. Lazily he sat, eventually evolving into tiresome slouching, which then turned into a dream induced sleep on the plush red Gryffindor couch.

His dreams were saturated with many odd things this night, which even in his half conscious half subconscious state Harry didn't find to be too unusual. Green light was followed by feathers, was followed by hoof beats was then followed by the sound of tinkling in the distant background. However this tinkling seemed to be increasing its audibility, more so than the rest of his dreamt up sounds.

Slowly pulling himself out of his drowse, Harry started to realize that this was not part of his dream at all. A few boot thuds soon drifted into his mind to accompany the tinkling, which had now changed into more of a jingling. Some indistinguishable voices were heard, spoken in the language of blurred reality mixed with a hint of leftover dreamland.

Cracking his eyes open, Harry moaned softly as his body decided to feel very grumpy about the form of his awakening.

"Holy shit!" a voice whispered as an even more blurred view of a person came into Harry's vision. Some green light was seen fading behind the figure as he focused his groggy, gaze.

"Captain?"

"Harry…w-what in the world are you doing down here?" she asked in astonished surprise.

"I think I should be asking you the same thing," he replied sitting up.

Biting her bottom lip she stood reminiscing in what to say next.

"Going somewhere?" Harry asked.

"N-No…" she replied unsteadily.

"So you sleep in your tack?"

"You're awful nosey for someone on every deatheater's hit list."

"And you're awful rude for someone who has virtually no friends," Harry blurted his exhaustion causing him to say what he was thinking by mistake.

The Captain looked at him in serious inquisition. Harry, not really caring what he said at this hour and in his mood, shrugged off the look, then in all the seriousness he could muster asked quietly, "I'm sorry, about the pitch today…I pushed and I shouldn't have. But it was just a quick match, why didn't you just whip me once and get on with it?"

She looked at him in even more confusion, frustrated by the courage being half away instilled in him.

"May I sit?" she exhaled, looking at him calmly.

He nodded, scooting over and gesturing to the warm empty spot he'd made for her.

Sitting next to him she took off her hat and looked at the scruffy haired teen, "Honestly?"

"Coming from a pirate that doesn't mean much," he interjected as she side glared at him.

"I don't know how to...fly…on a broom," she sighed scratching her neck.

Harry raised his brow at her in conformational sleepiness. She grinned at him mouth a line and sighed, "Yup."

He thought on this a moment, feeling sheepish for humiliating her as he had, "W-Would you like me to teach you?" he tried.

Raising a brow at him now she chuckled to herself and grinned, sending a wave of excitement through Harry. If he could make her smile then she wasn't as hard and merciless as she wanted everyone to believe.

He ran a hand through his hair ready to change the subject, "So why me?"

"What?"

"Why do you choose not to bite my face off every time I talk to you, yet when anyone else comes within 2 millimeters the horns and claws come out?"

"I-I-W"

This boy was WAY too curious for his own good. How was she supposed to explain this one?

"Well, I just figured…you and I have some things in common, so just that…you'd understand me better…I guess" she lied, looking at her fingers in mock insecurity.

"Really?" he replied a sincere gaze appearing on his face that sent shivers down the Captain's neck and back.

Those eyes could soften a dragon if they tried, she concluded.

"Yeah," she sighed after a long moments pause, dwelling in her own thoughts as to whether or not she was telling the truth. And in this sincerity-induced moment, and with Harry's weakened judgment, the Captain diagnosed that this was the perfect moment to plunge into her concoction of cover up tales.

Sighing, she pulled off her overcoat and looked at Harry with a thoughtful expression. She kicked off her boots next and tucked her knees under her chin and hugged them, thinking to attempt to work up some tears to further provoke her story.

"You see Harry," she began in a soft tone she knew didn't belong to her at all, "we're a lot alike you and I…"

Harry adjusted slightly and leant back into the cushions of the couch, propping his head on his hand as he rested his elbow on the sofa's arm to listen. The Captain looked over into the fire, pretending to be distracted by the dramatic state of her tale then continued, "I'm an orphan as well Harry."

The teens face dropped into a sympathetic, compassionate gaze, "I'm sorry…what happened?"

"I was only four or five at the time…" she mustered a fake remembering smile, "and my…my mum and dad were away on business again, nothing out of the ordinary they were very important people I knew they had to be away sometimes…but this time they didn't come back…Alastair…Ignatius Alastair killed them…"

Harry's eyes widened as the intensity of her stare burned brighter at the name, "Their research took them into more dangerous territory and he killed them," she forced her bottom lip to quiver, then sniffled back some tears.

Clenching her hands together around her legs she wiped some moisture off on her pants and looked back up at him, "I was placed under the custody of Albus Dumbledore following that incident…my father and he were old friends, connections much too complicated for a four year old to understand, and then soon after I was given to my uncle in Ireland…"

Adjusting again Harry looked at her tenderly, she just then realizing how convincing her story was becoming.

"Did he treat you well?" he then intruded and asked, catching her off guard.

"N-No, he didn't…" she answered looking at her feet and fidgeting with the laces of her breeches, "He was a roaring drunk…with two sons already to attend to, one about to the leave the house and the other almost out of school, I was of little concern, however when both did leave, he found me to be of great interest…he-he was…a cruel man…"

"Did he hurt you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes."

The Captain was quickly running out of ideas.

"What did he do?"

"I'd rather not talk about that Harry, in fact I think I've shared a bit too much for my own good…" she answered burying her face in her breeches and cursing to herself at how carried away she'd allowed her story to get.

"Does that answer your question though, as to why I treat you differently?" she asked shakily.

"Yeah…yeah it does, I understand, and don't worry your secrets safe with me," he smiled taking hold of her hand sincerely.

A little worried now the Captain broke their gaze, "Th-Thank you Harry, I appreciate it…"

He nodded warmly then emitted a yawn and looked at her sleepily, "It's getting late," he sighed, "I think I'll go up to bed now…thanks though, for telling me."

Rising he looked at her with a tender understanding she didn't deserve, squeezing her hand still clasped in his gently, and allowed her to bask in a liar's shame.

She cursed to herself even more after he ascended the boy's staircase. Why on earth was it so hard to lie to this boy? She'd never had a problem lying to anyone, no matter there status, or background, or traumatism. A surge of guilt racked her body afterwards, as a new flood of emotions all too foreign to her swept into her mind, and what little heart she did possess. This boy was bad for her pirate health she concluded, shaking off the new nagging feelings that had so quickly made themselves at home in her being, and heading up to bed.


	5. Softening

**Chapter 5: Softening**

Yawning sleepily the Captain straddled her usual spot at the Gryffindor table and sighed, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. The call of birds alerted her that the mail was in and she smirked as her blood hawk landed large and wobbly on the toast rack, almost taking it over. A handful of 2nd years stared in awe at the bird of prey perched menacingly near their plates and froze for fear it would find them its breakfast.

"G'morning Gabriel," she cooed, stroking the back of the bird's wing affectionately, "What've you got for me lovely?"

Several notes were tied to the fowl's leg and in its beak dangled an odd something. A something she ignored at first as she attempted to dislodge the mass of folded parchment, but failed at deciphering the knots. The bird fidgeted in irritation as she tugged more and more at his legs bringing her face closer and closer to its talons, "I've almost got it hold still."

The cluster of 2nd years watched anxiously as the Captain seemed to take no interest in the mass of the bird or its ability to rip out her jugular with just a simple snap of its bill. Dropping the something atop her plate the hawk nudged the Captain's fingers away angrily and began to pull at the twine itself, "Fine," she sighed exasperatedly, "You do it."

Within mere seconds the letters were free and she was pulling a clump of bacon from her plate to reward her beast. It gulped down the bits greedily and paused waiting for more but the Captain was preoccupied with the curious something it had left for her and the letter to boot.

She watched the something like it were alive and might bite her given the chance then gingerly unfolded the adjoining note to make sure it wasn't some sort of booby-trap.

_Morgan,_

_I really enjoyed our talk last night. The offer from last night still stands. Thank you for sharing your story with me, I hope it won't be the last thing we share._

_Your Friend,_

_Harry Potter_

An unusual flash of heat engulfed the Captain's face, and she grimaced. She was blushing. The rose that she had dubbed the curious something now seemed nothing more than a threatening bit of flimflammer-y. It was a present, a pale pink large twitterpated present that was laughing her in the face.

She ripped the stem from its bloom and pocketed the flower quickly hoping no one noticed, and continued flipping through her mail without actually acknowledging what was addressed. The Captain of the Pirate Horde Chaos could not be accused of being caught up in a boarding school romance.

Squeals of fright to her immediate left broke her from her trance. The smattering of 2nd years she'd been keeping in her peripherals since she arrived were smashed together helplessly as her blood hawk proceeded to make a massacre of their breakfasts. Pushing herself away from her island she managed to make it to the source of the screams just as it was becoming a scene.

But not to her grave displeasure before the old bat did.

"Miss Bayridge!" she summoned in that you're-in-a-great-deal-of-trouble voice.

The Captain slumped pushing her hands into her pockets as she pretended to be an innocent bystander to the squabble.

"Aye Professor?" she offered nonchalantly.

"Is this your ferocious beast?" McGonagall pointed accusingly.

The Captain turned her head to take in the bird that had now finished with the children's plates and was now heading for the platter of sausages.

She gave her blonde head a waggle, "Nope."

"Well where do you suppose it came from?" McGonagall exploded in irritation.

The Captain shrugged, hands still in her robe pockets, "Gosh Professor I'm not sure. My guess is that open window, just there, the one the owls are coming through."

McGonagall glanced at the window and then back at the Captain who smirked, "Dreadful mess its making isn't it?"

A 5th year jolted suddenly as the bird snatched his biscuit clean from his fingers and eyed him challengingly. The boy offered up the rest of his plate and hastily gathered his books and bag to make his escape.

"Yes and it's bullying my students," McGonagall droned.

The Captain leant forward then suddenly as if a genius thought had come to her, "Well gee Professor. I suppose I could try and get rid of it."

McGonagall gestured to the maniacal creature in exasperation, "Very well."

The Captain snatched up the rest of her mail and bag before sauntering to the hawk's hunched position over two more bacon filled plates. Head down she glanced through her mail yet again, acting as if she were leaving without even so much as sniffing in the direction of the bird. Then she paused, a coy mischievous grin playing across her lips. Shoving over a startled Ravenclaw girl she thwacked the back of the creature's head with her mail, it turning to come nose to nose with her.

It froze as if caught in a cobra's trance that was prepared to be devoured, "Buzz off you freeloader," the Captain hissed angrily.

The hawk swallowed its kill, cawed once in response and fluttered for the exit.

The Captain waved at McGonagall on the other side of the Hall, pointing at the owl entrance and yelling, "Told you, it was the open window."

McGonagall watched the hawk's abrupt escape irately marching straight for her, hands a frenzy with her unrest, "Miss Bayridge! Might I remind you that a bird of prey such as that is not permitted—"

The Captain grinned as she turned and left, a group of Hufflepuff girls passing her on their way to the dining hall and obstructing the Professor's vain attempt at reprimand.

She continued flipping through the rest of her mail, crumpled though it was now and came across a peculiar, small letter.

_Captain,_

_I thought it might interest you to know that a friend of yours will be dropping by late this afternoon. About 5 I would say, I'm sure he would love it if you visited him._

_Hagrid_

"Draigh," she sighed to herself.

"Who's Draigh?" a voice interrupted her, "Your boyfriend back home?"

She jerked her head to the left, immediately hardening and wrinkling her nose in disgust while she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, that's exactly who he is," she snarled, recognizing Malfoy's distasteful flirtation.

"Can't be all that great if he left you to this school all alone. A boyfriend should take better care of his woman," he smiled fingering a piece of her ponytail.

The Captain pulled away sharply, glaring at him and continuing to flip through her mail.

"So what are your plans for later today?" he attempted again coming to glide next to her.

"Nothing that involves you," she growled.

"Maybe they should then," he grinned interjecting himself in front of her halting her long avoiding strides.

Her temper was rising now as well. A part of her would've shot the stupid git already had she not remembered she was in school, and that the old bat had confiscated her pistols after she'd threatened a 2nd year Slytherin.

Sighing she smiled sweetly and put on a mockingly affectionate tone, "Fine, I'll go out with you tonight, Draco."

"Really?" he stopped suddenly.

"Get me a luncheon with your father, and I'll spend one night with you," she smirked.

"Done," Malfoy beamed, "Consider it done."

"Ms. Bayridge, may I see you in my office," Dumbledore's voice whispered into her ear causing her to jolt.

Her smirk dwindling into a straight-faced grimace, the Captain nodded and followed the periwinkle dressed man to his private chambers.

"Miss Bayridge, I'm afraid we've encountered a problem," Dumbledore sighed as he sat in a tall, long armed chair, resembling that of a throne.

'Shit,' she thought to herself, 'it's all over now…'

She slumped into the armchair across from his and sighed miserably, eyeing the windows that were way too high to make a swift escape.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, almost reading her mind, she thought, "isn't as safe as we would've hoped. Reports from the house ghosts and portraits have revealed a great number of unknown figures about the school, inside and out. Miss Bayridge, I hope you understand that what I'm about to ask you to do, is only for Harry's safety…"

The Captain looked at him in utter confusion. If she hadn't been discovered, and she'd been around Harry more than she'd been required to, what could she possibly have to do?

"We need you to join the quidditch team," Dumbledore interrupted with a smile.

The Captain's face went very pale, "W-w-I-Sir, I couldn't possibly, w-wouldn't that be unf-fair to the other students who want to try-out sir?" she gulped.

"We feel that your time would be best spent around Mr. Potter at all times, and unfortunately he's most vulnerable when he's on the pitch, out from the watch of all eyes…now all except yours," he explained.

She swallowed hard and loud again, and nodded slowly, "Y-Yes sir…" she paled even more, and rose from the cushioned chair.

"Thank you Miss Bayridge, your cooperation in this matter is greatly appreciated," Dumbledore whispered as he watched her leave.

The Captain descended the winding staircase of Headmaster Dumbledore's office gaping. As the gargoyle returned to cover the entrance she stepped aside, dropped her bag and leant back against the stone wall in defeat.

_I have to join that ruddy old team where they fly around on sticks and throw things at each other, blast it all to hell. This is ridiculous!_ She thought running her hands down her neck.

"Captain?" a voice startled her.

_What a coincidence_, she thought sarcastically as Harry's face came into view around the corner,_ thanks Albus, you old goat._

She smiled at him, as his eyes scanned her looking worried, "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah fine, I was just coming to find you actually," she said re-slinging her bag over her shoulder and putting on her schoolgirl charm.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes seeming to clear and even ignite with excitement.

"Yes," she grinned, running a hand into her ponytail and twirling it nervously, "Um, so about these lessons."

Harry looked down and bit his bottom lip, then smirked, "So the big and bad Captain wants help does she?"

Rolling her eyes the Captain sighed, "Dumbledore's making me join the quidditch team, he says I'm not 'involved enough.' They all think it would be smart if I joined, and I need to know how to fly, and I just figured I might as well learn from the captain."

Grinning to himself, Harry assumed he had just been complimented and accepted it without complaint, "Yeah, alright, sure, great um…good, yeah I can do that."

"I'll meet you at the pitch around 3ish?" she asked tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, great, um I'll meet you there," he smiled broadly at her.

"Yeah," she smiled back giggling at his awkwardness, and hating herself for it.

XXX XXX XXX

The Captain burst into the girl's dormitory and threw open her trunk, searching frantically for her riding gloves. She was late. Leaving many things laying askew on her bed, and on the open trunk she sprinted out of her dorm towards the staircase. Hastily pulling her hair into a messy bun she struggled to see down the stairs over the riding gloves held in her mouth, before shoving past some 2nd years out through the portrait hole.

Sprinting across the lawn between the courtyard and the pitch she pulled on and buttoned her gloves, slowing to a jog as she approached the stadium. Breathless and slightly sticky, the Captain pushed through the veil separating her from something she was assuming to be the prelude to her worst nightmare.

Before she knew what was going on, she'd shrugged off her coat and Harry had coaxed her to straddle a broom. To her immense relief _not_ his legendary Firebolt, but merely a Nimbus 2000. Clearing her throat, trying very hard not to sound nervous she gulped, "So, now what do I do?"

"Well," Harry chuckled at her; "First you must will it to move, so that it's in all of your power. Second, in this case I would advise you to command it to move…verbally."

"Verbally?" she asked slightly arching a brow at him, "Like…Up?"

And with this said the broom lifted into the air madly. The Captain clung to it for dear life, and was hardly able to keep herself from shrieking. Once she finally caught her breath she ordered the broom, "DOWN! DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!"

Again she sped off in the commanded direction, this time plummeting towards the earth, and screaming as she did. The ground was rushing toward her, the freezing air tearing the tears from her eyes, and as she recognized the brown and green swirling at her faster and faster she collected herself just enough to order, "STOP!"

In a gush of wind as the rest of the world finally caught up with her, she pushed her feet down, as if in invisible stirrups, clenching her fists in a white knuckle grip on the broomstick, as she hovered a foot from the middle of the pitch where she'd started. Looking around almost frantically she touched ground, and as soon as the blades of grass were felt comfortably beneath her soft-toed boot, she scrambled off the broom.

Harry, still gaping open mouthed, gazed at her in wonder at first, then in complete bewilderment, as she scampered as far from the broom as she could.

"I-I-I don't th-think I can d-do this, Harry, I-I-I think I should j-just tell Dumbledore to forget it," she almost whimpered as he approached her, and allowed her to use him to help herself to her feet.

"Captain," he said, looking at her sincerely, "That was incredible."

Almost immediately the blonde ceased her fidgeting, returning his gawk with one of her own, "Wh-w-I beg your pardon?"

"Captain, you just stopped a foot from the ground…on a Nimbus 2000…I barely pulled a stunt like that in my 3rd year on a Nimbus 2001," he explained, "You're a natural flyer, you hardly commanded the broom at all verbally, you controlled it strictly off your will and want to control it, and obviously, there was a load of force behind it because you had to be going as fast as I do on my firebolt, except on a broom six times slower."

She was speechless, in awe of the talent, she didn't even know she possessed. Watching as Harry continued she noticed that fire in his emerald eyes again, the same fire she'd seen the previous night when he looked at her so understanding, and yet again it sent unfamiliar emotions surging throughout her chest.

"C'mon," Harry stated excitedly grabbing his Firebolt and bringing it over to her, "do it again!"

The Captain jumped back as he brought it close to her, shaking her head fervently feeling afraid of something for the first time, "You're barking! Control? I was all over the place!"

This was so unlike her. She, the Captain of a pirate horde was scared of a piece of wood, with some bristles on the end of it. How ridiculous. Laughable almost, she imagined, but she had never felt so unhinged, or out of control in her life.

"C'mon Captain, you're a natural," he begged, noticing the intense, near fearful look come across her face as she awkwardly tried to hide it behind biting her lips.

Gazing at the broom, in a trance practically, he watched her. Breathing heavily, each inhale causing her chest to rise and fall, in a prideful apprehension he'd never seen on her before. Trying desperately to reach out and find out what she might be thinking or feeling, Harry found that boldness he'd possessed the previous night.

"Would you feel better if," he paused looking down at his feet, then back up at her, "I rode with you?"

The Captain heard the emotion and froze. A feeling of terror enveloped her. Thoughts rushed towards her, in brilliant flashes of color. Yet she pushed them all to the side and for a reason she wasn't even sure of and responded, "Would you really?"

He nodded and grinned, panic almost getting the better of him when she hesitated to reply. A great sigh of relief followed as he regained himself and started towards her.

"Here," he said trying to hide the quake of excitement in his voice. Harry positioned the broom underneath him, gripping it with one hand, and motioning to help her on with the other, "You sit in front, and I'll instruct you with what to do."

Again not knowing why she did it the Captain took his offered hand shakily, and looked at the broom with slight distaste.

"It's alright," he coaxed helping her to be situated in front of him, "This broom's not going anywhere until I allow you to control it, okay?"

She nodded her head and swallowed hard and loud, her heart pounding against her chest much faster than she would've liked. Still, though her subconscious and her better judgment were screaming with dissatisfaction at what she was doing, she could not figure out why she was seated with Harry Potter on the same broom, or why she was so petrified of this silly painted twig. Everything was a blur for her after that.

Harry took this opportunity to lean in close to her, though not quite as close as he had witnessed Malfoy doing, and whispered, "When I say so, you can tell the broom, only with your mind to go up, I'll control its speed, ok?"

Again, she confirmed with a head gesture, and bit her lip, trying to focus on her hands and concentrate on what it was she was being told to do.

"Let's just try a simple hover this time, just a couple feet off the ground," he said calmly not wanting to startle her.

She sighed bringing both hands to grip the stick in front of her, "Alright."

The Captain spread her stance minutely, allowing her feet to better grip the ground for takeoff. She pushed up gently hoping with every fiber of her terrified being that Harry could control his broom over her. They hurtled skyward to her horror and she felt her grip slip from the Firebolt. The pressure pushed them both hard against the broomstick, one on top of the other, Harry reaching under her for control.

He chuckled into her ear when he caught the handle, "I've got it, I've got it." They eased into a comfortable hover though quite a bit more than just a few feet off the ground.

The Captain trembled and stiffened as his biceps squeezed at her waist. She slumped back in exasperation not caring that he was there to cushion her frustrated defeat. Rubbing her face with her gloved hands she grumbled.

Harry chuckled again, "Its okay, you're still learning, you can't expect to get it on your second try."

She glanced at him over her shoulder and nodded, he was right and she hated it. Determinedly she scrubbed her hands on her thighs to rid them of any preventative moisture. Swatting away his hands she resumed her grip and prepared herself, "I just hate that I don't know what I'm doing."

He smiled secretly, "I can imagine someone used to being in charge would feel uncomfortable not being in charge."

The Captain shot him a look over her shoulder and he eased back, maybe a little too soon for that. She shifted her shoulders and hunched forward some, "Okay now what?"

"Well forward I guess. There try aiming for the hoops," he offered pointing.

She narrowed her gaze, focusing on the three golden rings and felt nothing happen. Concentrating hard she leant forward and was thrown back by the sudden thrust causing Harry to grab her waist in order to stay astride. She sat up, and reeled as she slowed some and Harry removed his hands able to balance on his own now.

"There you've got it!" Harry exclaimed, "Brilliant."

The Captain exhaled through her shoulders and brought them to a stop, hovering.

Harry patted her shoulder in congratulations, "Well done."

She beamed, hopefully without him seeing and nodded, "Thanks." He could hear the smile in her voice and his insides melted. He shook his head free of any curious thoughts of her and focused again.

"Alright so now that we have stop and go down, let's try steering," he suggested, pointing over her shoulder.

The Captain stared at the appendage and froze in realization. Snatching Harry's hand she wrenched his wrist toward her and stared at the face of the watch, "4:56. Blast!"

Harry's arms clutched her waist then suddenly, as she urged the broom full speed pulling the front upward to clear the side of the pitch, but just barely. She felt the tail of their mount skim the banister and twisted to see the damage but met Harry's face. She pinked instantly only then remembering the floral, sweet something that was still hidden in her pocket. Harry gave her a lopsided grin, one that made her blush worse and she whipped back around.

With a shriek she pulled up, gracing the side of Hogwarts with her feet and pushing off fearfully, missing a full on collision by just seconds. She jerked them upwards, fleeing the building and all its dangerous obstacles until they were far out of reach of any towers, gargoyles, or flagpoles. Her passenger settled as they cast their gaze across the campus, Hogwarts in all it majesty.

The Captain panted slightly, her head working back and forth, searching. Pointing the broom down at a sharp angle she pushed it forward abruptly, Harry clinging once again to her as she aimed toward the small shack sitting at the edge of the forbidden forest.

"Harry, I'm sorry," she began, almost yelling over her shoulder to be heard above the noise of the wind, "I'm late."

"Late?" Harry croaked at her, the air making his throat raw and dry.

"To help Hagrid," she smirked to herself, as along with the small hut, a shaggy haired man came into her view. Pulling up for the second time, and reissuing her invisible stirrups, the Captain touched down, and hopped off the broom somewhat clumsily.

Harry still remained straddling the broom, hanging on to it with one hand, and staring at her in confusion. Turning to him she looked apologetic once again, "Sorry Harry, thanks, um what time tomorrow?"

He held up two fingers, as she smiled at him in an expression he'd never seen her face alighted with before. She was excited. And not just excited, but she reminded him of a bubbly teenage girl that attended Hogwarts.

The Captain nodded to him and started away towards Hagrid, who was carrying a large umbrella, Fang sitting by his side. Pausing she turned, rushed up to him and hugged him tightly, "Bollocks, Harry, I forgot my jacket, would you mind bringing it to the common room?"

"Sure," he smiled drunkenly, "The commons, no problem."

"Thanks, so much, for everything," the Captain murmured in his ear before turning toward the forest.

She glanced over her shoulder, just catching the ends of the boy's robes fluttering away with his broom, before she redirected her flushed face to meet that of Hagrid's.

"Ye'alright?" he grunted.

The Captain straightened the front of her shirt, and fixed her expression into that of the highly respected and feared pirate she was.

"I'm fine," she grumbled.

Hagrid looked disapprovingly at the expression and held out a boulder sized hand to halt her as she made to enter the forbidden forest, "I like yeh, Cap'in, I really do, don' get me wrong…but if yeh' hurt my boy, we migh' become enemies, understan'?"

She folded her hands behind her back importantly, and lifted her chest, "I'm doing my job Hagrid surely you can understand that."

"I don' think Albus's intentions were fer yeh' to make the boy fall 'n love with yeh'," he replied, allowing a few of their steps to take them into the shrubbery of the wood.

The Captain paused then recollected herself quickly, "Dumbledore's intentions are never very clear, but I assure you, I have things under my complete, and total control."

"I'm sorry Cap'in, yer righ'…I can't accuse yeh of tamper'n with 'Arry's feel'ns when yer sharin' the same ones," he grinned.

She halted completely taken aback by his suggestions, and made to protest when she heard a familiar rumble, and on the spot melted into the pair of golden eyes that stared back at her across the forest.

XXX XXX XXX

A deep and infatuated notion enchanted Harry's mind that evening. He hadn't even bothered to change from his practice clothes, nor loosen his grip on the petite jacket he'd retrieved, he'd simply sat on the common room couch, stared at the fire, and thought. Thoughts he was sure should be occupying a young boys mind, but he felt slightly sheepish for thinking all at the same time.

Her face refused to leave his head, every smile, flutter of eyelashes and expression seemed ingrained into his inner eye. He went over her features, from top to bottom pausing he noticed on her lips. That sultry mouth that taunted him with a curious devilish uncertainty. Harry pulled at his pants, hoping to lessen the minute pull he now felt on them from the image he had made for himself.

"Harry, where's the Captain?" Hermione piped as she flopped next to him suddenly.

Harry stuttered a response and blushed shoving the jacket under his legs, "I-w-why do you want to know?" he questioned.

"I need to talk to her about a potions assignment," she tried to state innocently.

He raised a brow at her.

"Honest," she lied, making a highly convincing face, "I think she's figured out this secret ingredient we're supposed to add, I want to ask her about it."

Harry shrugged off the lie, he wanted to get back to his daydreaming, "She's at Hagrid's."

Without so much as a thank you his bushy haired friend bounced towards the exit. Settling back into his cushions he resumed his gaze into the fire and fidgeted some with the hem of the jacket as his practically naughty image returned to him.

"Hey mate!" Ron's voice called out to him.

Harry jolted for the second time as he turned crimson, knowing good and well that boys were not so oblivious to their own moods as girls were. He tried to hide his unease and dressed himself in a slightly sleepy smile, "Hey," he returned.

"What're you doing? How was that practice session with the Captain?"

Oh no, he knew, Harry flushed more.

"You alright?" Ron's eyebrows met in the middle as he stared in confusion.

Harry hunched forward, elbows to his knees and ran both hands through his hair.

"I can't stand this," he began.

"What're you on about?"

"How do they do it? Women…" Harry blurted.

"Do what?"

"How do you get them out of your head?"

"Oh stuck with that?" Ron asked with a broad grin, "Ah, we all have those mate, s'no big deal."

"No! Not like that, I'm not thinking about lots of them, just one…"

"Who?"

Harry bit his lip and remained silent.

"Is it the Captain?" Ron blurted.

Harry groaned.

"I knew it!"

"Sh, tell the whole school why don't you! Bloody hell!"

"Sorry," Ron offered, "Have you said anything to her? Does she know?"

"No, I don't think she has the slightest idea."

"Is that good?"

"I think," he leant back now that he'd calmed himself down, and laid his head on the top cushion.

"Wow Harry, when you pick 'em, you really pick 'em don't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he glanced over.

"The Captain?" Ron stated, "The prettiest girl at Hogwarts, not to mention the scariest. Good luck mate."

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear about the last bloke who tried after her?"

"No, she never said anything."

"Oi! She practically offed him in the Hall!"

Harry made a worried face and chewed on his tongue in deeper thought. He wondered what he'd walk away with if he asked her.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron interrupted.

"She went to look for the Captain."

"Why?"

"I don't know, something about the potions assignment…"

"What? She finished it two days ago," Ron sighed.

"No, she said something about a secret ingredient she needed to know from her."

"There are no secret ingredients in a Vanishing Potion. I'm dead awful with potions but it was ruddy easy."

"Then she's up to something," Harry said.

"Should we go find out what it is?"

"Yeah!"

Both boys leapt from their cushions, Harry grateful he'd found something to distract his boyish fantasies.

XXX XXX XXX

Hermione bustled through several groups of murmuring girls and finally found an opening in the walkway that led down to Hagrid's hut. She was going to figure out what was going on with the blonde pirate if it was the last thing she did. The only thing that worried her now, upon discovering she was in fact at Hagrid's was that she'd manage to drag their large friend into her illegal dealings as well. She could only imagine what it was she'd bribed him with as her mind raced with the possibilities.

Coming around the bend she caught herself and found a nearby tree to slip behind. The Captain and Hagrid were coming out of the forest. She couldn't hear a thing, but the opportunity to get any closer was long lost, surely if she approached now she'd be seen and the best parts of the conversation would be silenced and swallowed out of existence. She would just have to wait until one of them passed this way, and she feared it would be the Captain before Hagrid.

To her dismay she was right. Not moments later the Captain's jingling was audible and Hermione fixed her face determinedly, hoping this expression would chase away any of the true fear she had of the teen. Her figure swooshed passed and Hermione came out to catch her up the path.

"C-Captain!" she allowed.

The sound of her name from that voice made her eardrums itch, as the Captain turned to face the annoyance. She inclined her head in acknowledgement, her mouth a line of indifference. An obvious shudder went through the significantly shorter teen as her mouth hung open and words failed to leave it.

"What?" she answered impatiently.

Hermione was taking her in, the dirt smudged on her flawless cheeks, her hair quite a mess, and her shirt massively disheveled. What on earth has she been doing? The thought didn't even want to process in her mind as she felt her nose scrunch in distaste.

"Are you alright?" she finally managed.

"Aye, why wouldn't I be?" came the snide reply.

"You just…well um…" Hermione caught her nerve and clutched it hard in her mind, "You look like shit."

"Come again?" the Captain advanced on her eyebrows raised in a warning way as Hermione shrunk back a little.

"What were you doing at Hagrid's?" Hermione tried again.

"None of your blasted business!"

"Are you…s-seeing him?" she forced these words out against her own will.

"Oh bleeding hell!" the Captain looked fed up with her, as she turned on her heel.

Hermione went after her, "Well I didn't see you at lunch, and you did go down there by yourself and came back up looking like you…like you do now."

"Look you nosey little snit, what I do in my spare time is none of your concern, nor will I have you spreading rumors about whatever pops into that disgusting little mind of yours," she spat, "but if it will silence you to know I was helping Hagrid release a few of Aragog's kids, he was hiding them just there, in the woods behind his hut, and he needed an extra pair of hands, so I offered," she lied.

Hermione was devouring her bottom lip, nothing compared to how ridiculous she felt right at that instant, this had not gone at all how she planned, "O-Oh, right um…I'll just see you at dinner then."

The Captain made an exasperated face at her then spun around the corner and out of sight, exhaling to herself. This was getting tricky, making her wonder how much Hermione actually did know, and it agitated her immensely to think that irritating frizzy witch had anything to hold over her head.

Exiting the top of the moving stairs she began down the corridor leading to the Gryffindor's tower, and at remembering the password Harry popped into her thoughts. What was she to do with Harry? She slowed slightly and stuttered through many options, none of which she liked. Folding her arms over her chest she leaned against the stone-wall and thought, propping her foot up against it as she did.

Had she had a moment with him, hopefully not. Hagrid was right, Dumbledore didn't say to make him fall in love with her, just to keep him close enough to watch. But what better way to keep an eye on him than to have him hanging on her every word. Maybe playing this out wouldn't be such a bad thing after all, she'd have her very own personal servant, plus she would be pleasing her employer. Kicking off the wall she uttered the password to the common room and began to enter, colliding with the boy her thoughts occupied.

His eyes brightened at seeing her, this of which she knew was a good sign; she wasn't getting the wrong signals from him. But just in case, she thought she'd put on her girlish charm once again and play hard to get.

"Harry there you are," she grinned flirtatiously, "Listen I can't make it tomorrow at 2…"

Harry's face drooped slightly.

She smiled at his disappointment, "Can we reschedule for later tonight?"

A confused yet intently hopeful expression crawled across his face as she looked down at her feet in mock anxiety and came to meet his eyes again, biting her lower lip. Timidly she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and fidgeted with her fingers while watching them, "I-I mean if that's not convenient for you, I mean you can just forget it…"

"No! No, tonight is fine, about midnight?" he answered enthusiastically, offering out her retrieved garment, "Your, um, jacket."

The Captain smirked taking the folded clothing and making sure to brush her fingers with his, "Midnight."


	6. Divine Lies

Chapter 6: Divine Lies

The Captain's pocket watch read 10:45 PM, as she pondered on how to approach her evening. She'd never actually been on a date before, should this even be considered a date...surely not. Second-guessing herself, the Captain placed a worried hand on her brow and massaged it gently, hoping to rub out the gushing thoughts of what could happen. What had she gotten herself into?

A contenting fire mumbled in the heater situated in the middle of the dorm room as she propped her feet along the footboard to warm. Removing her jacket and thick riding pants, she raked her eyes over her hands and legs, which rested carelessly now on her bed. Catching dirt smudges across her middle and index finger on her right hand, she licked the thumb of her left and attempted to wipe them away, to no avail unfortunately. This frustrated her as she simply, reapplied the saliva and attempted to smear out the smears again.

Shaking her head she realized what she was doing. This was silly! What on earth was she insecure about? She did not like boys; they were all crude, low, disloyal, infuriating nuisances. And she certainly did not in any way fancy Harry Potter of all boys. This entire charade was just the job, the job that was paying her way out of yet another one of her mucky situations.

With this pseudo-reassurance, the Captain folded her arms across her chest and leant back against her headboard, chewing on her bottom lip.

Regardless of all her justifications she couldn't seem to swallow the dreadful thought that plagued her mind. What if she somehow…fell…for Harry? She had to give over a nervous laugh, hoping it would in some way help make the idea seem all the more improbable. Except it didn't. The insincerity in her voice did nothing but make her feel worse. The whole process quickly brought her to pacing about the empty room in her underwear, hair unleashed from its former bun and cascading down her back in lengthy, glorious tresses.

She caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby vanity, rushing to it in a panic she glanced over her features. What had the day brought to her skin…hm not much it seemed. Her eyes were as jubilant as ever, her pallor was perfectly sun-kissed as if she'd just returned from a long week on the shores of some tropical island, and her hair as usual flowed in a flawless wave of gold. She turned to the side, lifting her shirt to inspect the flatness of her stomach and the curvature of her bottom as it swelled out into her muscular thighs. All seemed right.

So what in the bloody daylights was she freaking out about?

Bolting then suddenly for her bed, she snatched her jacket and fished for its prize. Her watch now read 11:15 PM. She had forty five minutes. Forty-five minutes to do what though? All this thinking was driving her crazy. She desperately needed to find something to do, something to distract her. A shower! No a bath, yes a bath sounded like the ideal distraction. Scurrying to the single shower room she shared with her unfortunate roommates she snatched her olive green towel and cloth and shut the door, not to her dismay before she heard voices passing into the bed chamber behind her. As quickly as she could she set the bath to run, hoping it would be a blunt indicator that the washroom was occupied, but then she heard giggling and a high-pitched drone which meant someone had gossip.

Pressing her ear to the door she clutched her towel to her stomach as if in preparation for some terrible news.

"So did you hear about Harry!" a shrill voice asked, as all the bodies, messenger bags, and creaking mattresses settled.

The Captain's throat tightened immensely. Girls really gossiped about Harry? There were two no's and a yes to the girl's question.

"I'm hoping to make nothing of it, I'm hoping it's just a wretched rumor drummed up by some first years," a smooth, yet slightly nagging voice answered.

"There's no way it's true Romilda," another voice assured her sweetly, further from the bathroom, "She's perfectly awful and everyone thinks so."

"Yeah, everyone except the boys," a third voice scoffed, "Even Harry follows her around like a puppy."

The room went silent.

"Beth why would you say that, you're just perpetuating the rumor," someone hissed from further away.

"It's not my fault she has the best rack in Hogwarts. Were I interested in girls I'd probably wank off to her every night too," Beth retorted, "I'm just saying it's obvious why he likes her."

"She'd sooner shoot you than look at you," the sweet voice snarled, "Perfect knockers or not."

The Captain looked down at her chest curiously. They seemed normal to her, not too big, not too small. Best maybe, sufficient absolutely. She turned to the side again for inspection in the bathroom mirror. They were rather perky now that she saw them in proportion…that could very well work to her advantage, why hadn't she thought of this before.

"Besides that I've snuck him a love potion," Romilda chimed triumphantly earning her an explosion of giggles and protests from the other roommates, "So _my_ knockers will be the only ones he'll be after from now on."

The Captain could feel her face reddening in anger. The schoolgirl gossip myth was not only in fact true, it was viciously covering up psychosis within its perimeters and dripping with distain.

A pair of shadow feet appeared at the base of the washroom door and the Captain bit her lip to keep from breathing. Some more whispers, and one in particular directed at no one asked a little too loudly, "Is _she_ in there?"

"Has she been in there the whole time would be the real problem," said the pair of shadow feet.

The Captain dashed back to the tub and turned the water off, watching gleefully as the shadow feet vanished and loud shushes and hissing could be heard opposite of the door. She took several more moments to dab her eyes with some makeup, hardly enough to notice, but just enough she knew to make the terrible hens in the bedroom think she came out of the shower looking spectacular at all times.

Running her fingers through the bottom part of her underwear, and fluffing her breasts once for good measure she tussled her hair to make it look fresh and full before bursting out of the washroom humming.

"Oh," she fluttered her eyelashes and half smirked, commanding the room's attention, "When did you lot get in?"

Romilda's face was priceless, jaw slack, eyes hard with envy, and arms crossed against her lack of knockers furiously. The remaining three girls froze in their actions to observe the Captain, bouncy, bubbly, completely out of character bustling about the dorm in her under garments.

"Just a few moments ago," one of the frozen girls stated, brush mid stroke.

Beth snickered from her lounged position on her four-poster, Quidditch magazine open in front of her, "Told you," she chuckled.

The girls simultaneously shot her vicious glares.

"Well I for one would appreciate it if you put some clothes on slag," Romilda rose her voice from her seat at her vanity.

Everyone turned to witness the Captain's inevitable pistol draw but instead saw her simply pick out some clothes from her trunk and merely side-glance at Romilda. She bent over deeply, exposing more of her chest and backside and fished for some socks as it appeared.

"Did you hear me?" Romilda piped flustered, "I said put some clothes on, I'm tired of looking at you!"

This elicited the desired reaction though to Romilda's grave displeasure she continued to do it half clothed. The Captain sauntered to the huffy teen and placed both hands on her hips, surveying her wickedly.

She lent forward hands on her knees, and whispered into Romilda's ear, "Maybe Harry and I will share that love potion of yours tonight, I hope you made it sweet, that's how I like my drink," and promptly licked her cheek. A shrill cry came from the dark haired harpy as she flew backwards out of her seat and wailed in distress.

The Captain cackled once and proceeded to dress, making sure to pick a top that she could pull down to reveal her apparently impressive knockers. Though before she could exit she felt the hot air of fury as Romilda righted herself and stormed straight for her. The Captain held her ground, adjusting her multi-pocketed jacket along her shoulders and rummaging through the pockets to make sure she was well equipped for anything that should come her way this evening. She wound a device twice and replaced it before acknowledging Romilda's closeness.

While they shared the height the Captain was carved and hard from too many years within the walls of the ministry's delinquent penitentiary while Romilda, lithe, delicate and wispy looked ill equipped to handle any sort of duel, "I will ruin you, you wretched wench!" Came the empty threat.

"I promise you don't want to make an enemy of me," the Captain replied with an earnest chuckle.

Two of the five girls also occupying the room approached Romilda and clasped her shoulders nodding in agreement, "Yeah c'mon Ro, this isn't a good idea."

"No she can't bully us around our own room, we outnumber her," Romilda shook them off, hands by her sides in clenched fists, wand clutched in her left, "I'm sick of kowtowing to her stupid air of superiority around here!"

"Well I outwit you dearest," the Captain grinned, pulling her belt against her hips snuggly, pistol holsters empty, though the girls knew it wasn't her only means of defense anymore, "My _superiority_ comes from years of practice."

While they were well aware they outnumbered the intimidating Captain, they were also all too aware that at any given point and time the svelte girl could strangle them in their sleep whittling away their numbers in moments, and without a second thought, "Are you going to hex me now?"

Romilda vibrated once at the challenge then hesitated before attempting to flourish her wand in response. The Captain's face was steely cold as she swatted Romilda's hand, sending her wand flying, and clutched her throat to halt a scream and prove her sincerity. She was overly accustomed to being wandless and having only her hands and feet as weapons, something the soft witches of Hogwarts were bred to forget.

She shoved the twig-like figure of Romilda against her chest of drawers and stared her harshly in the eye, "Consider this a proper warning. Do not make an enemy of me Romilda Vain. I will be your last."

She released the girl gasping to the floor as the room rushed her, mewing pitifully to the assaulted teenager, and glaring back at the Captain vengefully, because they knew that was all they could manage.

"And I suggest you leave Harry alone," she added over her shoulder.

"Why's that?" she shouted back, half teary-eyed.

"Harry doesn't like green girls," she smiled tossing her remaining two Helium Dung Bombs over her shoulder.

Two magnificent bangs sounded in the dormitory, sending torrents of wails and fearful thrashing through the 7th year girl's dorm. Stealthily the Captain exited the room, avoiding the majority of the gas, and emerging outside the room with a particularly enchanting smirk across her lips.

Turning to face the doorway, she saw the girls headed straight for her, unaware of her presence. They paused in the frame and gazed awestruck at the Captain, the sweet voiced girl spoke first, "What's wrong with my voice?"

The Captain faced them all in warning, "I'm going to make this very clear you lot. I don't tolerate gossip, I don't tolerate manipulation, and I don't tolerate empty threats. If you'd like to challenge my authority within the dorm name a place and time, otherwise, my room, my rules. Anyone caught violating these rules will have this particularly attractive voice become a permanent part of her anatomy."

The threat produced what she wanted, as the gaggle of girls flew past her down the stairs tittering endlessly in high-pitched waves. A smirk embraced the Captain's lips as she paused at the top of the staircase, glancing at her watch, 11:45 PM.

Her pride and rage were replaced with a flutter of some foreign feeling in her chest. The word for it only came to her a few moments later when she found herself bumping into Harry at the bottom of the dormitory staircase. Nerves.

He grinned at her, an anxious lopsided grin. Though this provided no reassurance for her whatsoever, she concealed her trembling, and smiled sweetly at him, "Hello Harry, I was just about to head down to the pitch."

"So was I, do you um just want to walk with me?" he said shoving his hands into his pockets.

The Captain glanced to the right of Harry's ear and caught a glimpse of the girls from the dorm, squealing in high-pitched voices to one another. Smirking to herself, some of her insecurities ebbed.

_The knockers,_ she told herself, _Don't forget the knockers._

Locking eyes with Harry once more she flashed him a breathtakingly charming smile and replied, "Absolutely."

Pausing to wait for her to walk by his side Harry kept his hands tightly inside his pockets. The Captain caught his tenseness and quietly slipped an arm through his, catching only a hint of the red flush on his face as they began towards the exit.

Strutting directly by the table, the Captain refused to glance in the direction of the twittering girls, but grinned inwardly as their mad rambling ceased when they passed. In fact, she noticed, the entire common room had fallen silent. Becoming slightly worried the Captain noted that what she was doing was…for lack of a better word, petty and school girlish, however she was too enthralled by the night's prospects she hardly gave the juvenile a second thought. Tonight she would woo Harry Potter.

XXX XXX XXX

Hermione sat contently on the common room sofa, a concentrated expression plastered on her face as she studied the book in her lap. She found that she was having difficulties getting past this one paragraph on the antidote for grindylow bites, owing to the constant inquiries her mind was making about the Captain and what she had planned next. She was a magnificent liar Hermione concluded, able to spit out whatever she wanted her challenger to believe and almost force the belief upon them solely with her eyes. What was she doing with Hagrid? Why was it she was always around Harry so much? Did she have him under a spell? What'd she do with those smuggled goods? When was she planning on making those kinds of arrangements again? Should she say something to anyone? These thoughts and questions were interrupted only when something shrilly familiar graced her ears.

The entire 7th year girl's dorm came fluttering down the stairwell in utter panic. The posse leader looked about ready to burst and her face was a most amusing shade of green. Her voice came in squeals and shrieks in multiples of three making her sound a lot like the chipmunks off muggle cartoon shows. The mob was bickering back and forth at uncanny speeds only teenage girls could acquire, as Hermione tried desperately to remember what that noise reminded her of. Again her thought process was interrupted as Ron seated himself next to her.

"Hey, what're you up to?"

"A little reading for Potions," she said offhandedly, trying again to remember where she'd heard voices like the girls.

Ron took notice to where her eyes were scanning.

"What happened to them? It sounds like a fire alarm just went off," he chuckled.

"I'm not sure," she replied.

"So any word on the great and terrible Captain, Miss Holmes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and made to open her mouth to let out a sarcastic remark when one of the girls' observed their complexion in a compact and released an earsplitting wail.

Harry then came to stand next to the couch; grinning to himself, he spoke to his friends without looking at them, "What happened?"

Ron shrugged and covered his ears, "Its right amusing though isn't it?"

Harry nodded profusely, "Do they kinda sound like they've inhaled…"

"Helium!" Hermione exclaimed.

Both Harry and Ron watched her quizzically. Her epiphany earned her several awkward glances, all of which she ignored as she now knew who had caused the disturbance. And as if on cue, the culprit descended the staircase, and approached their ever-anxious Harry.

Ron glanced at Hermione knowingly, and she in turn simply grimaced. A smug look was consuming the Captain's face, this of which she found highly obnoxious and promptly averted her eyes. This girl was the most manipulative, infuriating, hellion of a human being she'd ever met, and now she was toying with poor Harry's emotions. And with him still in deniable mourning of Sirius, the Captain's actions only intensified Hermione's resentments.

"What's gotten into you?" Ron demanded upon seeing her contorted face of anger.

"What?" she answered in irritation.

"What's wrong with you?"

"That girl, I just…" she cut off her sentence for fear of cursing.

"What's wrong with the Captain?" he demanded, "I mean yeah, sure, she's a little rough around the edges, but I mean…"

"A little rough?" Hermione interjected, launching into her rebuttal, "She's a ridiculous excuse for a girl, who has no idea what compassion, understanding or acceptance are, and I know she's up to something, she's here for something other than just to be a teacher. I know you don't want to hear it Ron, but she is, I know what I saw, and it's not gossip, its fact, I saw her with my own two eyes, she's a lying, cheating wretch!"

Ron sat flabbergasted, Hermione had totally blown this simple debate out of proportion, and he hadn't the foggiest idea as to why, but this particular topic appeared to be agitating his favorite bushy haired teen more than she usually let on. He proceeded in the argument with caution.

"That set aside, she is nice to Harry, and he does like her," he offered.

"Yeah and I have a feeling she's going to hurt him," she folded her arms across her chest, "Where are they going anyways?" she inquired as Harry left, arm in arm, with the Captain through the portrait hole.

"He's giving her private flying lessons," Ron answered.

"Oh is he? Well we'll just see about that," Hermione seethed, slamming her book shut, leaping up, and following after them.

Ron launched after her, "What're you going to do?"

"A little spying," she replied.

XXX XXX XXX

It was a rather cold night, and neither of the two had remembered to bring a scarf or heavier cloak. The Captain, set against showing weakness, pretended as if the chill winds that lapped at her cheeks and hair didn't faze her, and continued walking, closer to Harry than she normally would. He, however, shivered outwardly, and allowed the corner of his mouth to arch in a half smile, when she giggled at him, "A bit cold?"

He nodded in response and blew into his hands, "Just a tad."

She rolled her eyes, taking his arm, lifting it, and pulling it around her neck, "Maybe we can figure out some activities that'll keep us warm."

_Oh that was smooth,_ she chided herself but bit her lip cutely to make up for it.

Harry's brows shot skyward and his heart trilled. This was the closest he'd ever been to the Captain and not only that but she'd been the one to instigate it. Maybe, he _was_ making some progress. But he didn't want to get his hopes up, not yet, not until he knew for sure, even though there was no for sure with the Captain.

"Much," he replied. Keep it simple.

She didn't want to admit it, but she liked the feel of being under his arm. He was warm, and inviting, and gentle, he was nothing like she was used to, nothing like the boys she subjected herself to. And she had to admit, she didn't mind it either. Being treated like a lady and admired wasn't all that bad, and she supposed she could understand why a girl would want to stay like this. All twitterpated and big eyed for the boys…though she was definitely not, right? _Knockers,_ she reminded herself again. If all else failed she had breasts.

Harry interrupted her thoughts as the pitch loomed around them, and he removed his arm, jogging to the storage room and pulling out two brooms. The sight of them sent chords of anxiety down the Captain's spine, and she bristled at the sudden wave of remembrance, this was the whole reason they ventured out, wasn't it? Damn.

"Let's get started, alright?" Harry smiled, "We'll take separate brooms this time, okay?"

Her mouth hung open, as she thought to protest, but closed it again and gave a tight lipped smile, nodding and reaching for the broom. Harry took in her silence and hesitation and changed his mind, withdrawing his arm and gazing at her, "On second thought, how about we try a quick trip just you and I once more," he suggested instead, indulging in the relieved face she gave him, "Just to make sure you have your brooms legs."

_Sailor's lingo, cute_, the Captain smiled to herself. He was trying the poor dear.

He straddled his Firebolt, and waited for her to mount ahead of him, but she paused again, apprehensive.

The Captain watched him pensively, how he positioned his feet against the frozen earth to ready himself, how he grasped the broomstick with one powerful hand and how his eyes slammed into hers like a freight train dripping green. She locked stares with him as he hovered above the broom, and waited for her, "You alright Captain?" he asked, holding out a hand for her.

The question gave her gooseflesh, "Oh, yeah, sorry," she approached, taking his hand and situating herself in front of him. Despite his form looming behind her protectively, she found the feeling of being on a broom frightening and tensed as she gripped the handle. Harry wrapped his arms around hers, grasping her hands on the broom, "Don't be afraid, I'm right here, it won't fly unless I let it, alright?" he whispered close to her ear. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks and bit her bottom lip, nodding silently.

"Do you remember how you got control of your nerves the last time?" he inquired, puffs of warm breath forming in the frosty night air.

She peered over her shoulder at him, "What makes you think I'm nervous?" she grumbled.

"Call it flyer's intuition," he chuckled, his cheek brushing her hair.

"I really don't like broomsticks," she confessed sheepishly, and regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.

"We'll break you of that yet Captain, I promise," he assured her heartedly.

She nodded in response, feeling her own breath quicken, whether from the anticipation of flying or of Harry tenderly instructing her she wasn't sure. Flexing her fingers under his, she noticed he, intentionally or not, laced his fingers with hers as she readied herself. The Captain beamed inwardly, she was enjoying this more than she should probably.

Harry couldn't remember when the last time it was he was this nervous, the Captain was possibly the most alluring creature he'd ever been around, and this fact alone was distracting him. Her hair smelled of sandalwood, crisp and inviting, and the tremble of her body against him did nothing to help his focus. A flood of inappropriate images flashed in his mind as she shifted her backside against him, and he blushed himself at the implications his mind was coming up with. If the Captain could read his mind, she would surely have him a pistols breath away in moments. He forced the fantasies away, and regained control, "Ready?"

She nodded quickly, thumb rubbing hot numb circles over his knuckles, "R-Ready…"

"Concentrate," he coaxed, "Let's get into a comfortable hover again."

The Captain closed her eyes summoning her nerve and braced her feet, bending at the knees to push off. Opening her eyes she kicked off the ground a little too roughly, bulleting into the sky. Harry, in shock, pressed his chest to her back, his hands finding her waist and catching himself as he almost flew off the end of the broom.

Shocked and terrified the Captain released the broom stick and fell backward into the warmth of Harry before realizing no one was steering. She let out a shriek and clutched the plummeting broom angrily wrenching its nose level so she could figure out where they'd wound up this time.

Pulling up she felt her breath catch and Harry's hand return to clutch hers around the handle. He was laughing excitedly behind her as she trembled, "That was intense!" he breathed.

"Intensely awful, I'm sorry," she apologized in sincere embarrassment.

"No, Captain, it's alright. You're new to this, it's only your second time on a broom, at least we got off the ground," he defended rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. A touch she reveled in. His hands were large and rough and she felt the sudden want to have them pressed between her thighs.

_Well that was an excessively inappropriate thought, _she scolded herself. Where it had come from had frazzled her concentration and she felt them jolt several feet downward before Harry forced her hands out of the way and clutched the handle forcefully.

"You okay?" he insisted in her ear. Another motion she wanted elsewhere on her body. She flushed at the sudden carnal need for him and began shifting on the broom, "I'm fine, I think I'm ready to fly on my own." Yes, away from Harry Potter was probably best for both of them.

Nodding enthusiastically Harry agreed and they descended back to the middle of the pitch so that he could retrieve an extra broom. After a short discussion on the positions she wanted to try-out for, which yet again left her mind slippery with intensely naughty ideas, they were air born.

They swam through the motions of a chaser, which interested the Captain very little. Following that Harry tried her as a seeker, a position she hated almost immediately when the snitch came within inches of her fingertips then altered course and smacked her clean in the center of her forehead. Cheeky sports equipment was not her cup of tea, she concluded in a variety of colorful curse words.

The keepers position also did little for her attentiveness within the game though Harry did point out she'd have to do the least amount of flying the entire game as most of her time spent on a broom would be relatively stationary unless a goal was being scored. She rejected that idea though as well.

When Harry explained the job of a beater to the Captain however her face immediately lit up.

"Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight, you're telling me they'll _give_ me a weapon, and I'm allowed to hit a twelve pound magic-ed ball _at_ other students?" she smiled utterly enticed.

Harry chuckled, "Yeah I guess if you put it that way, that's exactly what a beater gets to do."

"Sold Harry Potter, bring out the bad boys," she exclaimed pushing off into the air with ease now, beater's bat in hand.

Harry stayed grounded to release the bludger and waved up for her to signal when she was ready. She flailed her bat eagerly and he unleashed the clasp watching as the maddened ball went soaring in her direction. With a well aimed smack she sent the bludger soaring clear across the pitch and left a resounding, gong-like sound as it smashed off one of the golden hoops.

Unfortunately for Harry, it bounced off at such an angle that it came sailing straight for the back of his head. The Captain dropped her beater's bat and pelted in his direction, diving from her broomstick to tackle him from the projectiles path. Embedding itself into the pitch severely it twitched twice more in an attempt to escape before ceasing all movement and going still.

Groaning in pain the Captain clasped her head and stared up at a blur that was partially blocking out the starry sky. A great weight flattened her body to the pitch and she wasn't one hundred percent sure if that was a problem for the weight was extremely warm and covered all her frozen parts amply.

"Geez are you alright Captain," a familiar voice was mumbling in her ear. Some of the weight lifted, and it was enough to allow an icy cold to permeate the warmth and bring her fully to.

"I'm fine are _you_ alright?" she inquired, realizing then she was securely tucked under the looming body of Harry.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"A Beaters position seems one of the more dangerous," she observed with a quiet smile assessing that nothing of theirs had been broken, except maybe some pride.

"It is when you don't know a bludger's coming," he grinned next to her ear the warmth causing her to shift slightly. She could feel all of him over her, his chest pressed precariously close to hers, such that the supple swell of her chest came pouring over her v-neck sweater.

Harry froze in realization when she shifted her weight under him. He was on top of her, one leg parting her two and their chests pressed firmly together. He placed a hand on either side of her head and began to lift away, embarrassed at crushing her with their end over end landing, but she stopped him.

She wasn't sure what made her reach up and grab the collar of his shirt as he began to pull away. She'd like to say it was the stabbing cold, but hormones might claim different. The Captain placed on hand to his chest and another at his waist, pulling him back down, "No, no," she whispered, "I don't think I mind this."

And of all the things he could've thought to say, he simply bit his lip instead, stifling something she was sure.

"I guess I owe you some thanks," he offered, "That hit might've put me in the hospital wing for a week or two."

"Yes we must preserve your precious head," the Captain rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair, leaving her hand in it to stroke some bits experimentally. She followed it by dragging a finger down his cheek, memorizing the curve of his jaw, "I guess I owe you too."

"Oh," he asked watching her face eagerly, as if every bat of her eyelashes held some hidden message. She leant up slowly and placed the lightest of kisses on the corner of his mouth, pausing for only a breath to see if she'd gain some kind of reaction.

Two thermal lips melted against hers suddenly, absorbing her. Surprise engulfed ever nerve ending as the electric shock it sent to her body caused her to slack in his grip as he seized her waist. She found herself reacting, moving her own lips against his in an effusive way. The initial act left her curious and unsure, but now that it was happening, and there was no way she desired to stop it, she succumbed to his will, hopelessly lost in all that was Harry Potter.

Her senses danced, taking him in. He smelled of allspice soap and leather, sweet and steady. His lips felt heavenly, fluxing against hers slow and eager to explore. She felt just the bare edges of his tongue brush against her bottom lip and thought nothing of offering him the full of her mouth, coaxing him to delve into its wonders.

One hand cradled her face to his while the other slipped down to cup her hip, rocking her against him with each wave of their embrace. She ran her fingers up the back of his sweater, dragging her fingertips down the cambered muscles of his shoulders and reeling as his whole body rippled into hers forcing an accidental moan from deep in her throat, one she was trying desperately to hide.

The Captain was drowning in him. His scent and his aura were taking over her, until all she could think about was him and how much closer she wanted him to be. He drank her in and with each wanting clutch of his fingers she could tell she had him, though from the start of the evening it appeared as if she'd already had him. She didn't care somehow. Right that second all she could seem to worry about was making sure she didn't offer over any more clues of how much she was truly enjoying herself.

Harry pressed his body in turn with hers, sending her muscles trembling as she answered his tongue one last time before withdrawing and inhaling deeply. Their eyes, both were heavy lidded, clouded with want and something new neither could explain. Her hands had explored his hair and now came to rest around his neck, where she thumbed the soft warm skin.

Their faces were damp, the ice once entangled in their clothes and brows now melted from the heat of their union. The Captain's hair framed their world, shadowing his face even more so all she could see were the strong outlines of his jaw. Her smile broadened, accompanied by a faint giggle as she rested her forehead to his, "Anytime, Captain," he breathed into their moment.

Her eyes were alight with something Harry couldn't place, but the way her lips parted to allow her several deep breaths ignited his wants as she drew her face to his again, embracing the flushed flesh of her mouth once more. He released it sooner this time, reveling in the feel of her, now calm, collected and receptive to him. Her chest rose against his, as she rolled her body backward, allowing the cool air to separate them again.

The Captain couldn't seem to focus, but then Harry seemed to be in control and she couldn't tell if she cared. He pushed himself to stand, and offered his hand down to her. They brushed themselves off and collected their things back into the proper closets before agreeing to call it a night.

Before either realized it, they'd found themselves back in the empty common room, fire smoldering almost out of existence. They must've been out for hours, yet time seemed to have inched by. The Captain had never felt so a twitter before, and as they halted at the foot of the staircase leading to their dormitories she debated ascending with him to his room.

He cornered her as she leant against the wall under his looming figure, powerful and completely lovely. Stretching to the balls of her feet, she placed a hand on his chest, and allowed him the full of her mouth once, then pulled away as he followed, "Ah, ah," she clucked, placing a finger over his lips, "Don't get too carried away Potter," she smiled, "I'm not that easy," she joked.

Harry chuckled to himself, averting his gaze for a moment then bringing it back to her, "I'm glad we did this," he said, allowing his hands to fall back on her waist.

She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear and gave over a well practiced blush, "Me too, Harry."

He pulled her body to his, embracing her and nuzzling his face into the side of her neck, "Good night," he whispered, "See you in the morning."

She nodded as she pulled away, turning and sauntering up the stairs.

It didn't hit her until she allowed the click of the iron handle to signal the end of her night. What on earth had gotten into her? Where had her firm handle on things gone? She'd had a plan going in, yet somehow dropped the ball, pretty literally, somewhere there in the middle.

She ran her fingers through her hair, completely frazzled with herself try desperately to recall where she'd gone wrong. Shrugging off her jacket, and whipping her pants off she tossed them both over the lid of her trunk and crawled into her four-poster, sitting crossed legged and still bemused.

Glancing around the dorm at the other dozing girls she touched her lips, still somewhat swollen from her prior snog…her snog with Harry Potter. The idea sent a flutter through her chest that she hated herself for the second she realized it was happening. But it was happening. She thought she caught a terrified sob in her throat and covered her mouth to make sure if it was the dreaded thing it died right there.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she mumbled to herself, pulling her sweater over her head and slinging it to the foot of her bed. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to her exhaustion was yanking the covers over her head and ending her tirade of curses with a frustrated, "Damnit."


	7. Chess or Checkers

Chapter 7: Chess or Checkers

The Grand Hall smelt of cinnamon, peppermint, and pastries, light, fluffy and completely mouthwatering. Christmas draperies dressed the story high windows, all inlaid with golden embroidery which only served to highlight the mood of the hall. Miles of thick and creamy morsels were lined up and down the wooden tables, tempting every passerby with glazed frosting smiles.

The Captain sat alone, digging her teeth into the flesh of an apple, hoping to reap its juices as she studied for her mid-morning test, compliments of Professor Officious. Her deceptive eyes scanned each word thoroughly, hoping it would release unto her some unforeseen knowledge that she'd yet to soak up, and jolted as her owl skidded to a halt before her, toppling her pumpkin juice.

Drenched, and snowy, the owl offered her several letters as she shooed the fowl from her sight, agitated with the effort of memorizing the ingredients for a Gangrene Tonic. Marking her place with her finger, she paused and flipped through the letters she'd received: one from Charlie, a note from Hagrid (no doubt about Draigh), one from Sable, and…one from Lucius Malfoy? Disregarding her school work, she used her butter knife to slit open the envelope, sealed with the Malfoy House mark.

_Ms. Morgan Bayridge,_

_I have found it rather accommodating to know that you are schooling with my son, Draco Malfoy. As you know, during these harsh times, it is difficult to find good help, and I, as an old friend, humbly request a favor of you. Though Hogwarts is indeed one of the most safely guarded schools in the country, I don't quite find its security to my liking. I implore you to humor me when I request that you take on the job of watching over my son, Draco. I believe it will fall highly in your favor to not reject this proposal. And of course you will be paid handsomely._

_Sincerely,_

Lucius Malfoy

The letter left her exasperated, furious, and utterly bewildered. Was this a threat? Was Lucius Malfoy honestly bribing her? That despicable snot was seriously insinuating he could cause some serious trouble for her if he had wished, and this beyond anything else flustered her to no end. He couldn't know anything, could he?

She stared at the letter long and hard, hoping to incinerate the parchment with her eyes, but to no avail. It remained plain, formal, and glaring back at her with just as much hate and treachery. This was definitely a turn. Had she advertised her job offer to the world? Who else besides her and Dumbledore knew of her goings on at Hogwarts? No one she assumed, but maybe Malfoy wasn't bluffing.

Harry's warm body sat next to her and wrapped a comforting arm around her waist, "Good morning, what's this?" he asked reaching for the letter that was held so ridged in her grip, he was afraid she'd crumple it.

"Nothing," she snapped reflexively.

Harry's brow furrowed and he withdrew his arm, feeling a little insulted if not pushed from, as the Captain's infuriated eyes glazed over his. She in turn took notice and quaked beneath his hurt gaze. Gently placing two fingers against his jaw, she redirected his face and wove her lips around his, bringing with it a sweet hint of spices, and sugar. Harry grinned into the morning embrace, and reacted to her in forgiveness, forgetting the letter completely, and reveling in the awestruck gazes they acquired.

The Captain shoved the letter into her book with one hand, and clamped it shut, leaning as if to stand. Harry clung to her, too deeply enveloped to want to let go, and refused to release, thoroughly enjoying the game and wishing he could start every morning out like this. The Captain nipped his lip affectionately and he withdrew, holding her face in his large hands, and basking in her eyes.

She thumbed his wrist and stood, tucking her large Potions book under her arm, and focusing solely on Harry. "How about we have another one of those flying lessons during lunch tomorrow hm?" she grinned with a suggestive smile.

"Maybe there's a thing or two you could teach me instead," he replied, running his own thumb over her bottom lip and watching it hungrily.

The Captain's eyebrows shot up at the implications, "Are you trying to seduce me Harry Potter?" she giggled softly.

"Why, is it working?"

Rolling her eyes, she pecked him once more and exited the hall, waving at him lovingly over her shoulder. The girlish air seemed to evaporate as she rounded the corridor, eyes hardening and honing in on a sleeked haired blonde boy, boasting loudly next to the foot of the moving staircase. Instinctively she found her hand clutching a fistful of the boy's robes, and slamming him against the wall.

She whipped out the letter, and shoved it in his face, "You think this is your excuse note to be around me anytime you please?"

His horrified face calmed as he witnessed his father's signature, and looked through his smug grin, even a bit confused, "I think it's a brilliant idea, but I honestly didn't put him up to it. Though, I can't deny it might play in my favor. What can I say? I need protecting."

She watched as Malfoy's hand run down the side of her face toward her chest, and she pinned it above his head, "Oh, feisty," he whispered in her ear, as her open palm thereafter was seen flying through the air, and connected with his cheek.

"If you lay another hand on me I'll be sure you never use it again," she growled.

"Ms. Bayridge!" an obnoxiously authoritative voice echoed, "We do not permit such abuse in this school, surely you could've guessed this as it's already December, we are not aboard your ship, and thusly we do not follow your rules. That'll be 50 points from Gryffindor, if I see anymore physicality like that, it'll be a detention. Do I make myself clear?" McGonagall seethed.

The Captain's jaw locked tight as she bit her tongue and nodded her head in response, whirling back to Malfoy and glaring at him, "It appears I've stolen your queen, Captain," he grinned, skillfully running a hand against her thigh, "Or if not, I will soon enough. My father's seen to that."

She recognized the wordplay, and stretched her coy mouth into a charismatic smirk, "That may be true Mr. Malfoy," she answered leaning close to his face and noticing a drastic change in his posture. She placed a hand on his shoulder lightly, and brought her mouth up to his ear, just barely bypassing his lips, "But you've left your king unguarded," she whispered pulling her knee to meet his groin roughly.

"Ms Bayridge! That'll be-"

"A detention, I know," she answered back loudly. Malfoy slid to the floor, clutching himself in breathless pain, "But it was worth it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Harry…earth to Harry," Ron shouted, waving a hand in front of his face.

He shook from his trance and refocused his attention, "Yeah, hm?"

"Transfiguration is this way," his best friend instructed.

Harry glanced around himself and realized he was about to head down the hall to the girl's lavatory. "Oh, right," he sighed, catching up with Ron again, and heading back off at a brisk walk.

"So," the redhead nudged him, "You and the Captain."

"Yeah, what about us?"

"Are you kidding me?! You two were practically snogging this morning at the breakfast table!" Ron shouted, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him, "What happened?!"

"If you ask me its right disgusting the way you two are about in public like that," Hermione snarled.

"Well nobody asked you now did they?" Ron snapped, "Go on, Harry, out with it!"

Harry blushed intensely, and shrugged with a smile, "Well I dunno, I mean, we kinda just hit it off last night I mean…" he trailed off.

"You more than just hit it off Harry, that's obvious."

"Yeah it was more like a slobber match," Hermione grumbled.

"How would you know?" he snapped at her.

"Because Ms. Goodie-Two-Shoes over here actually convinced me to go out and spy on the two of you last night with her!" Ron blurted.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed slapping him hard on the arm.

"What?!" Harry interrupted in disbelief.

Hermione slumped guiltily, "I was just worried about you Harry, I thought she was going to convince you to get into something awful!" she defended.

Harry's temper was rising in his veins and he could feel the familiar dangerous surge inch its way up his arms and neck, finding his chest and residing there comfortably, "Look Hermione, if I want your help I'll ask for it, if I want your advice I'll ask for that as well, but if I want your opinion on my relationships I'll give that to you, because you don't have the damnedest idea what the Captain and I do, or what we say. You know only gossip, and assumption. I could expect this from Pansy, or Parveti, or even Lavender, but never from you Hermione. I always thought you were bigger than that. I guess I was wrong."

Hermione's mouth hung open, and out of shame and fury she closed it and fixed her face in indifference. She longed to shout at him, to tell him he was a complete idiot, and if he didn't want her help, then that was just fine, but something inside her answered that she was his best friend, and he was only blinded by infatuation. He didn't know what he was saying. And, alright, so she wouldn't openly help him anymore, but she could still do it subtly. Because even though Harry and Ron were brilliant, she had discovered in their 2nd year that while they were just playing checkers, she was, and would always be playing chess.

"Alright Harry, you're right, I won't interfere anymore," she sighed, clutching the book to her chest.

The boys stopped in the doorway of their Transfiguration Classroom, and watched her with bemusement, "Did you just say, I-I was right?"

She nodded, as the defying tone reared its ugly head in her throat, "But before you go assuming that all I do is assume, and listen to gossip, you might want to read what I found for you in the library," she shoved the large book into Harry's abdomen hard, "The page is marked with a news clip I found on your new girlfriend, hope you enjoy it!" with this she turned on her heel and marched into the class, slumping into a seat in agitation.

Harry, still trying to catch his breath glanced over at Ron, who shrugged, and they too enter the class, listening, and participating in silence, as the trio once again had chosen sides, and was now broken apart in argument.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The sweet, tantalizing scents of Christmas and its dainties had vanished and were replaced with the gagging, starchy odor of trophy polish. The mobile ladder she rode, came to a standstill as she reached for a plaque she found she could hold onto with one hand, and began scrubbing at its dusty, smudged lettering vigorously, imagining to herself she was in fact wiping out the existence of Draco Malfoy's face.

'That lowly, deplorable, spoiled, boorish, umbrageous…' she blew her frustration through her teeth, and slapped her rag to her side.

The lone hall that was her prison for the evening glowed dimly with bobbing, enchanted candles. They swayed to and fro, distracting her in a contenting sort of way, until she found herself dozing into a foggy daydream filled to the brim with the beaming face of young Harry Potter. She sighed, almost dreamily, and shook herself from the trance, cursing inwardly and returning to her furious rubbing, solely to avert her attention from her mind's new main attraction.

An hour later she found herself nearly finished with the row of awards she'd been assigned to clean for the evening. Turning to lean back against the steps of the rolling ladder, she relaxed as it began to move on its own back towards the door so that she might actually attain some rest for the night. A jerking halt made her lose balance and tumble off one side of the ladder, she only managing to somersault gracefully to a crouching position on the floor with a grunt.

"What in the…" she reeled as a sweeping pain graced her ankles and calves from the impact.

"My father isn't happy," Malfoy's voice entered.

The Captain's eyes flared, irises dripping poisonous barbs she wished she could shoot from her eyes into his sleek-haired head. He leaned, shoulder side, against the still ladder from which she'd just jumped, and looked at his fingernails in a smug way, "He says you'll pay for that you know, what you did to me."

"Malfoy," she sighed, straightening and ignoring the flood of discomfort in her feet, as she straightened her coat importantly, "If your father could actually present himself as frightening or backup half of what he said, I suspect he would be a much more threatening adversary. However the latter would prove to be the least likely to occur, so I therefore admonish your insolent attempt at challenging me, and advise you get back to your room, as it appears its way past your bedtime."

Whirling on her heel she made to exit the hall, as the door was only several paces away at this point, and winced at the effort she had to make to support herself. Malfoy started after her, sarcasm inhabiting his form, "Then please, my so wise and trusted protector, won't you escort me back to my chambers, as it's one what my father pays you for and what I want you to do. And seeing as how the latter is more important, I demand upon penalty of displacement that you do as I say. It is my bedtime, and it appears I've left my teddy bear at home, so I'm afraid you'll have to replace him," he linked his arm with hers and pressed his body with irritating firmness against hers against the wall, just before she reached the door.

She peered into his eyes, cold, heartless, even creepy she might say, but in no way intimidating. In place of this she found cowardly aggression. Positioning her mouth into a sneer of disgust she brought her hands to the wall, and then into her pockets to keep as far from him as physically possible, "Malfoy, if you in fact do the things I know you're fantasizing about me to your teddy bear, you need more help than I ever suspected."

She found his hands roaming their way around her abdomen, and precariously admitting themselves entry to her blouse, "Oh, I don't think you'd find the things I'm imagining too terrible. In fact, from what I've heard, you rather like things rough, don't you Captain?" one of his hands found her buttocks and squeezed roughly, "That'd be check I believe. Your queen it seems will indeed be in my possession within a few more moves."

Pushing roughly back against him, she thrust her pistol barrels into his ribs and forced him back. Watching with amusement, the Captain allowed a playful smirk to file her lips into place as he retreated to the opposing wall.

The Captain leaned close to his face again, raising one barrel to the soft belly of his chin, and directing her breath toward his ear, "You don't want to play games with me boy, so for your sake I'm going to make this as clear as humanly possible…

"I would rather allow my own heart to be eaten out by Alastair himself, than be in any way shape or form sexually or socially related to you. And no, with emphasis on the word no, amount of written or verbal documentation can sway me, so if another attempt as the one your father so vainly managed is brought or sent to me, I will be sure to feed your king to my good ole pal Ignatius, on a silver engraved platter, savvy?"

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Harry slumped into the common room completely exhausted, allowing his sore practice ridden limbs to lax lifelessly against the plush arms of a nearby chair as he fell into it. He fidgeted with the leather of his riding gloves as they scratched at the tender skin between his fingers, and let his head lean back against the armchair, closing his eyes and waiting for his mind to do its work.

Within moments a tanned, vivacious face had filled his imagination to the brim, and he decided interrupting the story he'd devised for himself would be the smartest thing to do, owing to the fact that he wasn't alone in the commons. His eyes flickered open and instinctively he found himself browsing the room for his mind's new preoccupation, but solemnly remembered that she'd acquired a mysterious detention and wouldn't be back until late.

He felt his fingertips press in frustration against the arms velvety skin and shifted himself to try and ease the prolonged feeling of anxiety and loneliness. He needed a distraction and discovered he had a rather large chunk of homework he'd left untouched. A groan formulated in his throat and he released it as he pushed himself to his feet and fetched his bag from his dorm. When he reentered the common room it was rather scarce, and this he found he liked as now he could work in peace and without any giggling.

Running both hands through his hair, he sighed through his teeth and pulled out all of his books, strewing them across the tabletop. He readied his quill and ink and soon found himself a quarter of the way done with his Charms assignment on a Tickle Tactic Spell. The work hadn't been as tedious as he expected and this notion in itself was refreshing and incredibly relaxing.

Another hour passed and the majority of the work was done and ready to be turned in, but now what Harry found himself contemplating was far more grave and vexing than mere busy work. The large, moth eaten book with faded lettering read: _Great Survivals _that Hermione had so graciously bestowed upon him glared with hateful eyes back at him from next to his inkbottle. He feared opening it, feared discovering anything terrible about the Captain. He was just getting to know her, and not the salty, sassy Captain, the one perhaps she liked to keep hidden behind her scars and bad memories.

The idea of conceiving her as anything other than brilliant, and sweet was almost stomach turning at this point. He couldn't seem to rid himself of the feel of her, the way she completely engulfed him when she was around, when it was just the two of them. And what's more was that Harry had never found himself feel about any girl like this. It was enough to make him sick, but he dared to think maybe he really did care for the Captain, in a way perhaps he wasn't really completely ready to admit.

Past her physical appearance, which utterly floored him, he genuinely wanted to know her, the ins and outs of her mind, how she thought, why she thought what she thought, and more importantly how she felt. How she felt…how did she feel he then found himself wondering. He had more or less made his intentions and feelings clear, at least he thought he had, yet he couldn't pinpoint one specific incident in which the Captain had indeed allowed him to know anything of what she was feeling.

Snatching the book from its humiliating place, he flipped to the marked page and prepared himself for the horrors he might find. The news clipping was found folded twice and so instead he decided the read the text of the page he found to have a striking title: Girl Survives Attack from Ignatius Alastair. He read thoroughly not wanting to miss any detail, and he didn't. The tale was true, she had battled with Ignatius, and the scar she bore was from him, but how this could've proved any point of Hermione's case he wasn't sure.

The clipping was next, and he sighed in relief, as the information he'd just read wasn't any different than what the Captain had told them all. However the shocking news that the picture and context read was a little more than frightening.

_Young Morgan Bayridge, barely 17, was taken into custody just yesterday on all hallows eve for smuggling over 200 different categories of stolen goods for a secret society that could possibly be linked to He Who Must Not Be Named. Her intent could not be found, and her accomplices have yet to be discovered, however the repercussions for her treachery can only be described as unforgivable. The contents of her cargo included detailed blueprints of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, barrels of exploding powder, muggle weaponry, and approximately 80 hippogriffs. The charges could've been paramount were it not for her timely bail paid in full from an anonymous source. She is currently residing in a nearby correctional facility and will be released after her rehabilitation is complete._

The information more than stunned him, but he couldn't figure what to think of the article. The evidence riding against her was astounding, but was this really the same Captain he knew now, and would it affect them. His mind buzzed, he needed desperately to talk to her. He glanced at his watched and sighed, 10:45; she should be done in about fifteen minutes now.

He watched the article intently, half expecting it to jump from the desk and begin screaming sense or answers at him. But to his grave dismay nothing of the sort occurred. His leg began to bounce in anticipation. The Captain wouldn't really be in contact with Voldemort, she couldn't be. Everyone knew his history, and if she really was on his side she wouldn't have anything to do with him…would she?

Suspicions threatened to drown out any other feelings he had for her, and this beyond anything else petrified him. He really needed to talk to her. Without a second glance at the clipping, Harry picked himself up still clad in his practice robes and exited the common room. He didn't know what to think anymore, he really shouldn't have opened that ridiculous book at all. Damn Hermione!

Two moving staircases later he found himself in the corridor leading to the Trophy Room. He rounded another corner and heard voices, one belonging to his sweet Captain, and the other irritatingly familiar, yet somehow he couldn't place it. The door was cracked about two inches and nosily Harry peeked inside. His heart jumped to his mouth and he bristled at the sight he witnessed.

The Captain was pressed precariously close to Malfoy as one of his thin pale hands, curved its way around her bottom. He tore his eyes away, looking down at the carpeted aisle and cursed to himself, insides burning. A loud bang came from the room next and he saw only Malfoy suddenly petrified and pressed against the opposing wall, the Captain speaking low and rapid into his ear.

His internals settled, obviously she wasn't willingly with him, and this in itself made Harry smile, she was loyal if nothing else. Maybe, just maybe she wasn't as terrible as the information made her out to be, maybe she had turned over a new leaf, and maybe he wouldn't let this new flood of information change his mind entirely about his fiery new love interest.

Placing his fingertips against the door he pushed it open, and stepped inside, pausing as the Captain whirled gun in hand and pointed it directly at him.

"Oh Harry," she exclaimed, lowering it immediately, "You scared me, I'm so sorry."

"I just came to see if you wanted someone to walk back to the common room with," he started, glancing Malfoy up and down, "But you seem a bit busy."

"Oh no, not busy," she smiled.

Harry stared hard at Malfoy over her shoulder, as she caught his gaze, "Oh him? He and I were just discussing some game strategy, he noticed how lovely a chess player I was."

Harry raised his brows in question, "Oh really, I'll have to play you sometime, I'm right good myself."

Malfoy scowled at her, pushing himself from his sprawled position against the wall, "You threatening, whore of a…"

He began to advance but was abruptly halted by the barrel of the Captain's pistol as it came within centimeters of his nose. She cocked it, "Look, I don't feel like shooting anyone tonight, could you please just keep that hole in your face shut, it'll save the both of us a lot of pain eh?"

"My father _will_ hear about this," he growled, moving past her and through the door with an eerie silence.

Harry was feeling panicky, what _were_ they doing alone together? Clearly the Captain hadn't wanted the encounter, but the fact still remained that it had, and it appeared as if she had no intention of explaining herself to him, or anything else about her for that matter. But if they were going to be together, he was going to have to start asking questions, and now seemed the perfect opportunity for the Captain to prove to him that she wasn't as terrible as the news clipping suggested.

"What was all that about?" he inquired as she approached him with a smile, sheathing her weapon.

Rolling her eyes, the Captain half grinned, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," he pushed.

Her face became inviting, the last expression he was expecting from her at this moment, "Here," she smiled handing him a folded piece of parchment, "Read for yourself."

Another note explaining something about the Captain, he was starting to wonder if he always had to read about her, if maybe she wouldn't tell him anything outright, but merely leave him to learn on his own. The letter left him in abashed fury, "That slimy…" he crumpled the paper in his hands.

The Captain giggled, "I know I said the same thing." Her hands were in her pockets, and she was leaning against the wall, blonde hair spilling over one shoulder.

"So that's what you were "discussing" with him?" Harry asked again.

She nodded, "Let's just say I graciously declined his father's request."

Harry smiled broadly, encircling her waist and pulling her to him, "I'm so relieved you did."

The Captain placed both hands on his chest and gazed up at him, a playful smile embracing her lips, "Oh and why's that?"

"He made you sound like some kind of body guard," Harry chuckled, "You're just a student, what was he expecting you to do?"

The Captain twitched at the aspect of the lie that left her mouth next, "I know, I don't know where he got that from."

His eyes sang to her, green and delicious, and she winced at the thought of lying to him again, but she had no choice. He couldn't know he wasn't ready to know, she couldn't quite trust him yet. But maybe soon, maybe. They strolled back to the Gryffindor Commons hand in hand, laughing and flirting, as if it was natural.

When she paused at the bottom of the stairs Harry pulled from their ritual good night kiss to look at her quizzically.

"You alright?" she asked in worry.

"Y-Yeah…" he said, unsure of his own answer.

"Positive?"

He avoided the second question by pressing his lips back to hers and pulling her down from the two stairs she'd managed to ascend. When she came up for her second breath she grinned, "I should get some sleep."

Harry released her with one final peck, and watched contently as she sauntered up the stairs and disappeared around the corner. She was amazing, and he was sure nothing involving her past could change his mind. And with that sole thought he made it to his room and slept soundly.

The Captain on the other hand, sighed with unease as she entered the silent dorm, not undressing but entering the large bathroom to the left of her bed. She withdrew another letter from one of her many pockets and scanned it for any errors. When deciding there were none she opened the window and sat on the sill, bringing two fingers to her lips and whistling loudly.

Before long a large horned owl came to rest on her forearm and she gave it the letter addressed to Sable. The big smuggle would begin tomorrow, at dusk, and she wanted to be sure everything was in place, and for that she would need to meet with him, sometime tomorrow morning. And this most of all she was dreading.

When the bird took flight she reentered the bedroom, stripping and dawning her pajamas. Once securely nestled between the sheets she found herself silently apologizing to Harry, and this also scared her, because she was without a doubt completely smitten with the Boy Who Lived, her ward and her charge.

She was beginning to lose her nerve, she could barely force out the lie tonight, and that was only the first thing to go she knew. Soon Harry Potter would have altered her completely and the truly horrifying part was that she wasn't sure if she really minded anymore. She was losing the part of her that was the Captain, with each move she could feel her pawns dispensing and her rooks dwindling. But she couldn't seem to fathom whether a checkmate was really going to be all that bad.


End file.
